The Bravest In The Land
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Magic has returned for the residents of Storybrooke. Battle lines are being drawn, and one girl is forced into the conflict in order to protect her family and fulfill her oath. Fortunately, this isn't the first time she's had to fight for all that she cares about…
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Bravest in the Land**

**Rating: I know you all might be new to my writing, my little kittens, so allow me to inform you that I always write M. Without fail.**

**Summary: Magic has returned for the residents of Storybrooke. Battle lines are being drawn, and one girl is forced into the conflict in order to protect her family and fulfill her oath. Fortunately, this isn't the first time she's had to fight for all that she cares about…**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, the first thing I'd do is have more Rumbelle. And more Mad Swan. And more Rumbelle. And more Mad Swan. Get the picture?**

**Author's Note: This is my own take on Season 2, so it will be kind of AU. My major OC is actually based upon a fairytale found in Andrew Lang's Violet Fairy Book (a part of his Rainbow Fairy Book Series) called "The Girl Who Pretended To Be a Boy". I highly suggest you check it out. I tried to stay as true to the original story as possible, but had to change a few small things to fit the OUAT format. I hope you all enjoy!**

The horse thundered through the forest, galloping at breakneck speed. Leaping over fallen logs and meandering streams, it snorted hot breath into the cool morning air, its hooves beating upon the ground like a hammering heart in battle. Rather than showing fright, the stallion's rider whooped with delight, throwing her hands into the air and letting her hair blow back into the wind.

"Faster!" She cried, urging her horse forward. Leaping over one last brook, the horse cleared the forest and galloped over a field, finally slowing down as it approached a winding dirt road. The girl collapsed, laughing breathlessly, onto the horse's back.

"Good boy, Fet; good boy." She said, patting the horse on the flank. "You're better than the war horses Father has, aren't you, my beauty?" She cooed.

The horse whinnied appreciatively, understanding her tone of voice, if not her words. The girl chuckled.

"All right then; I think an apple is in order, don't you?" She asked, patting the horse again. "Home it is, then!"

She clicked her tongue twice, guiding the horse with her heels. Fet turned obediently and headed up the road towards the hills. There, nestled in the back of the valley, the hills sloping gently up behind it, lay the castle of King Francis.

The girl led her horse through a back gate and into the stables, giving him a thorough rubdown before feeding him and heading into the kitchen. From the kitchen she went up the servant's staircase, through the Great Hall and into the so-called War Room.

Although technically used for times of war, the smaller version of the Great Hall had not been used in that way since the Ogre Wars had finally reached their bloody conclusion. Now, it was the room that the king preferred to use for his discussions with his advisors. At the moment there was a heated debate going on between two of his closest counselors.

The girl stepped into the room, pulling her blonde hair back into a more proper bun. There were two women in the room, watching the debate. They were also blonde. The younger, clad in a simple dress of deep blue, waved the girl over gently. The girl sat down at the blue-clad woman's feet, and she began to carefully redo the girl's hair. The eldest woman, wearing a dress of deep green, arched an eyebrow at the kneeling girl but said nothing.

"What's the matter?" The youngest asked.

"It's the Emperor Julius." The woman in blue said. "He's threatening to invade."

The girl bit her lip. The Ogre Wars had taken their toll on everyone, kingdoms and minor duchies alike. Whether commoner or king, everyone had suffered a little. One of the kingdoms that had been less affected by the wars was seizing the opportunity to swallow up land, conquering the other kingdoms. The ruler, Julius, had given himself the title of Emperor. Although the great kings, such as King Leopold, had warned him to stop, they did not have enough power – or, really, the desire – to start a war over it.

The king stood, holding up a hand for his advisors to cease. They stopped talking at once. First, he turned to the girls.

"Sarah, Alice; I must admit I am surprised to see you here. I did not think that the matters of state interested you so much." He smiled.

"When it concerns my husband, it concerns me." Sarah, the one in green, said. Her eyes flickered towards one of the advisors who had been arguing – a nice-looking, brunette man.

"I was bored." Alice said, shrugging.

The king turned to the youngest girl. "Franny, where have you been?"

"Riding." The girl, named for her father, replied. "Is it true that Emperor Julius is threatening war?"

King Francis sighed. "He has given us two options, my dear; surrender, or face him in battle."

"Which we cannot do without the men, which we lack!" Sarah's husband explained, exasperated.

"But his conditions of surrender are ones that we cannot fulfill, either!" The other advisor shouted.

"What are the conditions?" Franny asked.

The king sighed once more. "That I do as all the other small kingdoms he has conquered have done – send one of my sons, blood of my blood, to serve him in his royal court."

The silence in the room was deafening. "But… you have no sons…" Franny said slowly. "Unless he will accept a son-in-law."

All of the advisors shook their heads.

"Will he take no quarter?"

Everyone looked solemn. Alice's hands left Franny's hair, automatically going to her rounding belly. Sarah, although unable to conceive herself, looked concerned and patted her sister's arm comfortingly.

"What about King Leopold? We have ties to him through Queen Regina. Surely–"

"We've tried that already." The king interrupted gently.

"But J-"

"Has petitioned her, but the Queen says that her husband can't afford to get into a war with Julius. It will turn into nothing but a stalemate and cost lives." Alice said quietly.

"I'm sure he did his best." Franny said. She knew how her sister missed her husband while he was away. He had entered the service of Queen Regina before marrying Alice, and his term of service was not yet over.

"The fact of the matter is that we have no options." The (formerly shouting) advisor explained. "I respect your opinion, Marcus, and I understand that we can't afford war, but we have no choice."

Marcus, Sarah's husband, sighed. Although he and Sarah were next in line to rule, as he was not the biological son of the king, he could not offer himself up in service to Julius.

Franny's mind raced. What if…

"I'll go."

Everyone stared. Franny stood up; her shoulders down and back, willing herself to sound as regal as possible. "I will go and serve the Emperor. Our kingdom will be considered a part of his Empire, but at least we won't lose everything in war."

King Francis stood up and made his way towards his youngest daughter. "But my dear, you aren't a boy." He smiled gently.

"So?" Franny asked. "I can ride as well as one. I can wield a bow and a lance, and I've been taught with a sword. I'm the youngest, father; you've let me do as I please, and that was how I pleased. All I have to do is keep my hair up and my voice down. I even have a name that will work – Francis, after you. As Mother told you when I was born, it works just as well for a girl as for a boy. We're a small country; no one knows much about us, so no one can give me away. No one will know that anything is amiss."

Her father stared at her, still a little unbelieving. Marcus cleared his throat. "Franny," He began, "You're a brave girl, but if you're discovered…"

"Then you can claim that I ran away and you knew nothing about it." Franny interrupted him.

"But the punishment will be death, at least." Marcus reminded her.

"Better the death of one then the death of hundreds in a war that we cannot win." Franny argued. "Julius wants his sign of 'goodwill'. He wants his collateral. Well, he'll have it. And you will have peace as a province. He's as old as father is, and when he dies, his 'empire' will most likely die with him. Until then, I can serve and do my family honor."

There was a pause as everyone considered her words. Then Alice stood. "Father," She said quietly. "Please let her go. You know she'll just run away and do it if we don't. Give her your blessing."

King Francis stared at his youngest daughter for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "You may go." He said quietly.

Franny ran across the room and hugged him tightly. His advisors looked at one another, shocked at the open display of affection. "Thank you, Father." She whispered into his chest.

"You break my heart, child." He murmured quietly, smoothing her still-tangled hair.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Two days later, all was in readiness to go. The newly dubbed Sir Francis sat upon her horse in full armor. Only the blacksmith in her father's castle knew that the armor was specially made to be just right for her lighter frame. A sword, balanced and light but thin and deadly, hung from her hip.

"I'll send a messenger with word that I've reached the Emperor's castle safely." She called, spurring her horse into motion. "Take care!"

Francis galloped off. Sarah bit her lip in exactly the same manner as Francis had two days before, leaning against Marcus for support. Alice rubbed her stomach again, wishing for her husband's swift return. The king stood a little ways apart, hands clasped behind his back. His face was as stone, but inside, he allowed himself to cry.

The Emperor's castle was the most imperious and luxurious building that Francis had ever seen. Upon entering the gates, she was assaulted by a whirl of colors, sights and sounds. It was a hundred times busier than her father's castle. Everything around her screamed, 'prosperity'.

She dismounted, feeling it might be seen as stuck-up to parade around on her horse through the sprawling market, and led her stallion through the crowd towards the main stables. She raised her hand towards a stable boy sweeping out a stall.

"Ho, boy!" She called out, her voice low. Her voice would never win any awards for manliness, but at least she didn't sound like a girl who had not even reached her twentieth year. The boy approached her. "I am one of the princes, coming to serve the Emperor as a part of the conditions of surrender." She explained. "May I leave my horse here?"

The boy nodded. "Of course, Your Highness; we'll take excellent care of your steed. You'll want to approach him, of course; just ask any knight inside and they'll give you directions."

"Many thanks." Francis handed the boy her horse.

"May I ask his name?" The boy asked.

"Fet." Francis said. Upon seeing the boy's puzzled expression, she explained. "When I was little, I called him Fet-Frunners. I thought it was a grand, fancy name. When I got older and realized how ridiculous that sounded, I just shortened it."

The boy smiled. "I think it's a good name. I'll make sure it's put above his stable door."

"Thank you." Frances replied. She left Fet in the boy's care and turned towards the main entrance. The large oak doors were dark and imposing. So far, no one had questioned who she was, but now the real test was set to begin. What happened in the next hour determined everything. She would either begin serving the Emperor Julius and ensure her family's safety…

Or die.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Present Day – Before Breaking the Curse_

"Hey! Hey!" Sheriff Emma Swan ran up to pull the two struggling teens apart. "Cut it out!"

Roughly half of Storybrooke High was standing in a circle, watching a wiry, curly haired freshman duke it out with a blonde senior. There were two unusual things about this fight, which was why it had drawn such a large crowd; one, the senior was a girl; and two, she was winning.

"Take it back!" The girl shouted, sitting on the boy's chest and dealing punch after punch to his head. "Take it back, you immature jerk!"

Emma broke through the crowd and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pulling her off of her opponent. "That's enough." The Sheriff said firmly, glaring at both teens. She looked around at the gaping students. "Everybody clear off!" She yelled.

The teenagers beat a hasty retreat. Emma grabbed the two fighters by the back collars of their t-shirts and physically hauled them up. "What the hell was going on here?" She demanded. "You two got so much attention that someone called the police – namely, me. Now I've got plenty of better things to do than deal with your teen angst, so hurry up and spill."

"He insulted Elaine." The girl started. Emma stopped her.

"Wait – what's your name, and where are your parents?" She asked.

"I'm Fran; Fran Robinson. I live with my sister and brother-in-law and my niece." The girl explained.

"And you are?" Emma turned to the boy.

"I'm Barry." The boy said. "I live with the Sisters because I'm an orphan."

"Okay then, Barry, Fran;" Emma said. "You are going to tell me how this all started. And no bullshit – I can tell when people are lying."

"He insulted Ellie." Fran explained. "He stole her sketchbook and ripped out the drawings, calling her names. So I tackled him."

"We were just having a little fun, weren't we, girls?" Barry argued.

Emma rolled her eyes. "What kind of names did he call her?" She asked Fran.

"He called her a…" Fran stuttered to a stop.

"It's okay, Fran; you can tell her." Said a quiet voice.

All three turned to see a petite, dark-haired girl with quiet eyes staring at them. She was standing a few feet away from where they were, clutching a black sketchbook.

"You must be Ellie." Emma said.

The girl nodded. "I'm Ellie Caesar." She said quietly. "Go on, Fran; you can tell her."

Fran took a deep breath. "He called her a whoring dyke."

Emma's mouth dropped open. "A what? Why?" She rounded on Barry.

"It was her drawings, okay! Take a look yourself!" Barry said defensively.

Emma looked at Ellie, who handed Emma the sketchbook. Emma flipped through the pages, frowning. The teenagers waited, none of them breathing. At last, Emma closed the book. "I don't see anything in here but great works of art. You've got talent, kid." She passed the sketchbook back to Ellie.

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but Fran sent him a glare that made him shut his mouth again. Emma ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay, kiddos; here's the deal. You," She pointed at Barry, "Are not going to go around using language like that. The next time you pull a stunt like this, I'll put you in jail for harassment. You," The pointing finger turned to Fran, "Are not going to get into a fight like that again, or I'll speak to your sister about it. She's your legal guardian, right?"

Fran nodded. "Our mom died giving birth to me, and our dad passed away a few years back."

Emma nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that." She said, genuinely sympathetic. She turned to Ellie. "And you," She said, "Will keep drawing. Is that understood?"

They all nodded. Barry turned and started to head towards the church. Fran moved towards Ellie, but Emma stopped her. "Hey," She said, her voice much quieter. "You two ever need help, you come to me, okay?"

Fran and Ellie both looked at Emma uncomfortably. "Okay." Fran finally said.

Emma nodded and headed back towards her car. Fran walked over to Ellie.

"I'm sorry about that." Fran said, rubbing the toe of her sneaker into the dirt.

Ellie shook her head. "It's okay; you got my drawings back. And it was kind of nice – chivalrous, actually."

Fran blushed a little "What were those drawings of, anyway?" She asked.

Ellie sighed. "You might as well see them." She handed her the sketchbook. "They're all of you, anyway."

Fran's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the sketches. They were, indeed, all of her – sitting in class, reading a book in the grass, hanging upside-down from a tree, sneaking an apple from the Mayor's garden, playing field hockey, playing soccer, playing rugby… playing every sport, really.

"Why'd you… I mean… they're beautiful." Fran said softly.

"You're beautiful." Ellie replied, her voice just as soft.

Fran's head jerked up. She swallowed. "Um… did we uh… did I ever get around to telling you what I was going to tell you I was going to say before Barry stole your drawings?" She stumbled out.

After deciphering the muddled sentence, Ellie shook her head. "No, although you came close a couple of times. You tend to talk in circles, did you know that?"

"I've noticed that people tell me that - I mean… yup." Fran nodded. "When I'm nervous I tend to word vomit."

"So what were you going to tell me?" Ellie asked.

"I was wondering…" Fran said slowly, tasting and weighing each word before it came out of her mouth, "If you were doing anything on Friday."

Before Ellie could answer, she barreled forward. "I mean, it's nothing big, not much of anything, it's just that I was hoping you might like to go to Granny's with me – if you like Granny's, that is – and Friday night is the kind of night for that thing and…" Fran took a deep breath and stopped, clearing her throat.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Ellie asked slowly, her eyes sparkling as she peered at the other girl.

Fran nodded, her lips pressed together tightly to prevent anything else from shooting out. Ellie smiled.

"Then the only thing I'm doing this Friday is going out with you." Ellie declared.

Fran blinked in shock. "You mean it?"

Ellie gently took her sketchbook from Fran's hands. "You can pick me up at six." She said, winking.

Fran stood there, watching her walk away, her dark hair swinging. Then a huge grin spread over her face and she let out a whoop, throwing her arms into the air.

**And that's the end of the first chapter! Barry has a Fairytale counterpart, if you're clever enough to pick up on the (very subtle) clues. Francis/Fran has some connections to a couple beloved OUAT characters that will be revealed in upcoming chapters. Reviews would be much appreciated, as this is my first time writing for this fandom. Also, I would love to know how I did writing Emma. I fucking love that girl, man. She's badass.**

**Quick Note: For those of you staring at your screens wondering if I am going there, then yes. Francis/Fran and Ellie (Fairytale name to be revealed shortly) are lesbian. And yes, they are lesbian in the original fairytale that I am basing them on. And here I thought the Middle Ages was a backward, archaic time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whew, I haven't started a multi-chapter fic like this in a while. Which reminds me, I still need to finish those… whoops.**

**Also, a little note… if I can find my soapbox… ah, here it is! Okay. So while I'm as straight as an arrow, I have always been a big LGBT supporter and have several friends who are gay. I was also intrigued by the fact that there was a lesbian fairy tale in an otherwise completely heterosexual fairytale collection – in fact, it's the only gay fairytale I've found to date. So I wanted to take a stand and explore an intriguing option all in one go. How could the writer and activist in me say no?**

**Okay, off of my soapbox now. You can go on with your business.**

"So what got you started on drawing?" Fran asked.

Ellie shrugged, smiling thankfully at Ruby as she set down their dessert of cherry pie. "It's just always something I've been able to do. What got you started on sports?"

"Okay, good point." Fran laughed. "Have you ever shown any to anyone?"

Ellie poked at her pie with her fork. She took a full minute before speaking. "Not really. My dad's not too interested in stuff like that; he's always busy with work."

"He's building quite the business." Fran said supportively.

Ellie laughed without mirth. "That's one of his catchphrases – building houses, building business… that sort of thing."

"I'm sorry." Fran said quietly.

"Don't be." Ellie shook her head. "But what about your family?" She asked brightly.

The girls continued talking like that, long into the night, until Ruby tapped their table. "I hate to interrupt, ladies, but we're closing." She winked.

"Sorry!" Fran blurted.

They quickly rose from the table and headed out the door towards Ellie's house. The closer they got to the house, the slower they walked, until they were standing ten feet away from the gate that led up to the steps.

"So you… you had a nice time?" Fran asked, praying that she wouldn't say something stupid.

Ellie nodded. "I'd love to do it again." She said earnestly.

Fran smiled. "Really? Would, um, next Saturday work? We could go to the park or something."

Ellie smiled back at her. "I'd like that."

They stood there for a moment until Ellie finally got a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "But I'd like it even more if you kissed me now."

Fran felt like her brain was going a million miles a minute, but she had nothing to say. So instead she leaned forward and kissed her.

It lasted only about two seconds, but in that moment the entire earth shifted. Ellie's smile widened, and Fran blinked a little dazedly. "So, um, see you Monday?"

"See you then." Ellie nodded. She turned and stepped through the gate, walking up to her house.

"And Ellie!" Fran called out. Ellie turned on her front step. "Have a good night!" Fran called.

"You too." Ellie laughed.

Fran skipped the entire way home. She felt like she should tell someone… but she didn't know who. It was like there was a specific person that she should be sharing this with, but every time she tried to think of whom that person was the thought would elude her, slipping away like morning mist.

Shaking her head free of such thoughts, she focused instead on Ellie and the kiss.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Fairytale Land_

_Plunk._

Francis turned, frowning in slight confusion at the box at her feet. A minute later, there was a much louder _thump_ as a girl landed at her feet. Francis looked on with increasing confusion as the girl stood, dusting off her pale gold dress, her carefully braided dark locks starting to come loose. She raised her head, her eyes meeting those of Francis. She froze.

There were a lot of noble ladies in the court of Emperor Julius, but only one who was this girl's age.

"Princess." Francis bowed respectfully. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Well, to be honest, I didn't know anyone was in the stables right now." The princess explained. "And you are…?"

"Sir Francis, at your service, Princess." Francis replied.

"Please, call me Elaine."

"All right, then; Elaine. What brings you here? Do you ride?"

"I wish I did." Elaine said, sighing. "Father hardly lets me do anything – you'd think, with the little attention he pays me, that he would let me be…" She stopped, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to complain."

"It's fine." Francis assured her. "So, if you don't ride, why did you come out here?"

"To paint the horses." Elaine gestured around them. "Is that one yours?"

Francis looked over at Fet and smiled. "Yes. I've had him since I was about ten."

"May I paint him?" Elaine asked.

"Um… sure. I mean, of course." Francis amended.

Elaine set up her supplies, taking them out of the box that she'd dropped. As she began to paint, Francis watched her. "You're very good." She breathed, surprised at the princess's skill.

"Thank you." Elaine blushed. "Do you ride a lot?"

"All the time; it's one of my favorite things." A thought struck Francis. "I can teach you, if you'd like."

"You'd teach me?" Elaine looked surprised, but pleased. "I would love that." She said bashfully.

"Well, you name a time, and I'll show you everything that I know." Francis promised.

"What about this afternoon?" Elaine asked. "I have nothing to do after dance lessons."

Francis nodded. "I don't have much to do, either. Sometimes, I think your father keeps us around for the sport of it – I mean, oh… I'm sorry." She fumbled, apologizing.

Elaine laughed gently. "It's all right." She assured her. "Where shall we meet?"

"Here." Francis explained. "You'll need to know how to pick a horse, and saddle him and everything."

"But can't the stable hands do that?" Elaine asked, confused.

"Of course they can," Francis said patiently, "But you need to know how as well, in case of an emergency. Wouldn't you rather be able to do things yourself, instead of relying upon others?"

Elaine smiled. "You know what, Sir Francis? I like you already."

Francis bowed. "Thank you, Your Highness, but if I am to call you Elaine, then you must call me Francis."

"All right… Francis." Elaine's eyes sparkled.

Francis felt a warmth bloom in her chest, and she smiled back.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Present Day – Before the Curse_

There were whispers about it in the hallway at school, and enough was being said to reach the ears of the adults that Emma eventually heard about it. She learned it from Mary Margaret, who learned it from Ruby, who learned it by eavesdropping on two gossiping mothers at Granny's, who heard it from their gossiping daughters on the phone that day.

(This was a small, isolated town in Maine; yes, teenagers would still spend hours tying up the landline.)

"I don't see what the problem is." Emma complained, digging into the pasta Mary Margaret had made. "I mean, they're two teenagers, they seem like nice girls, and it's high school. Everyone experiments in high school. Or college."

"You won't hear any complaints from me." Mary Margaret said, sitting down to eat. "I'm only telling you what Ruby told me. She seemed pretty worked up about it, too, going on about interfering parents and all. I tell you that girl has some rebellion issues…"

"I'll stop by the school tomorrow and make sure everything's okay." Emma said. "The last thing those girls need is Fran getting suspended for fighting again."

When Emma strolled past the school as the students spilled out of it at the end of the day, however, there didn't seem to be anything amiss. She spotted Fran and Ellie, heads together as they talked earnestly. Ellie had her arms wrapped around her sketchbook and some other notebooks, and Fran had her hand at her back to guide her and keep her close. They looked just like any other happy teenage couple.

Emma felt a sudden pang. She remembered Graham, and for a split second she almost wished…

She shook her head. Smiling, albeit a little sadly, she walked on.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Fairytale Land_

Francis strode hurriedly into the Great Hall. All the other knights and noblemen stood, craning their necks to get a look at their lord. Emperor Julius was sitting on his throne, looking nastily impatient as he waited for everyone to assemble. At a signal from one of his men he stood. Any conversations being held immediately ceased as everyone turned their full attention to him. Francis had to stand on tiptoe to see, cursing her short stature. Although the men had accepted her as one of them, and she'd actually won several mock fights between them, they still liked to poke fun at her height.

"My good lords and knights," Julius exclaimed, his voice ringing through the hall, "A terrible tragedy has struck us."

A few whispers sprang up that were quickly squashed with a look from the emperor. He continued.

"While out riding today, my most precious treasure, the Princess Elaine, was attacked by a fearsome dragon." Julius explained. "Her entire retinue was slaughtered, and the beast carried her off to its lair in the north."

Francis stood, rooted to the spot. Her entire body was rigid with cold, her chest heaving as if she'd just run a thousand miles. Elaine? Captured? How was that possible? Her thoughts raced. Elaine only ever went riding with her, and never with a retinue – in fact, the princess had stated on several occasions that she hated to have a large group of people following her about. And when had a dragon ever captured someone to eat later?

But then, Francis didn't know much of anything about dragons, so she couldn't judge.

Emperor Julius was droning on and on, saying a great deal of things, but Francis didn't pay attention. She had to get Elaine back. She had to protect her.

"…and so, if any man here is brave enough to bring back my autumn flower, let him speak." Julius concluded.

"I will go!" Francis cried out. Slowly, everyone turned and stared at her. She ignored them and marched through the crowd until she was standing directly in front of the raised dais upon which the throne – and Julius – stood.

"Forgive me, good sir; who are you?" Julius asked.

"Sir Francis, Your Highness." Francis said, kneeling. "And your humble servant."

"And you wish to go fight the dragon?" The emperor asked.

"I wish to deliver your daughter back to you safely." Francis said.

"Then you may go." Julius replied. "Take whatever provisions you may need."

Francis rose.

"You have one week." Julius warned. "If you are not back by then, we will presume you dead, and send another in your place. Is that understood?"

Francis bowed. "Of course, my lord."

She hurried from the room, once again ignoring the stares of the other knights. She spared not a moment but hurried at once to the stables, preparing Fet.

"We're going to go get Elaine, my beauty." She whispered. "You remember her, don't you?"

Fet nickered.

"Good boy." Francis said. She led him out past the kitchens, stopping to get some food for the journey.

"Anything else you need?" One of the scullery maids asked.

Francis thought for a moment. Who knew what things Elaine might have had to endure at the dragon's lair?

"I'll need a blanket, some calming tea, and…" Francis paused. "And some of that butcher paper you wrap the meat in. And some charcoal, if you have it."

The maid gave her a puzzled look, but fetched the desired items. It wasn't Elaine's fancy painting kit, but hopefully having something to sketch with would be therapeutic.

"Thank you." Francis said, swinging back into the saddle.

"Sir?" The maid said tentatively. Francis looked back at her. The maid smiled shyly. "Do your best to bring the princess back, will you? She's always been so nice and all – not a bit like some ladies."

"I'll bring her back." Francis promised.

_Or my heart just might break._ She silently added.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

The ride to the dragon's lair took two days. The entire time, all that Francis could think about was Elaine. The way her dark hair shone in the sun; the soft smile she gave Francis when she praised her; the mischievous sparkle she got in her eyes before she said or did something outrageous. She thought about her hands, small but strong and nimble, holding a paintbrush with such skill and precision. She thought about how when Elaine was concentrating on something, her eyes would crinkle up a little and she'd stick her tongue between her teeth.

Francis knew things about Elaine that no one else did. She knew that Elaine would compulsively complain about her father. She knew that Elaine hated the color orange. She knew that when Elaine was uncomfortable, she would shrink into herself, making herself as small as she could. People thought that she looked at the ground because she was shy, but it was because she was thinking. People thought that she was delicate, but she could scale a wall like nobody's business.

People didn't know Elaine. But Francis did.

She had to get her back.

She had to.

The lair itself was pretty straightforward; it was a cave, in a hillside, with dark burn marks and bones strewn across the ground. In other words, it was straight out of legend. Francis approached the cave cautiously. She knew she had little chance of defeating the dragon in a straightforward fight; her best bet would be to find Elaine and then kill the dragon cunningly.

Francis examined the cave entrance for a moment, and then set upon a plan. Now she just had to get Elaine out of there.

She darted along the wall, hardly daring to breathe, wishing she wasn't wearing armor that clanked so much. Back against the hillside, Francis peered into the cave.

The giant creature was sleeping, curled up like a massive, scaly cat. Tied to a rock, about ten feet from the entrance, was…

"Elaine!" Francis hissed.

The princess turned, dark hair swinging. "Francis!" She whispered. "Are you the one?"

Francis didn't ponder the strange choice of words. She crept over to Elaine, pulling out her sword. "Hold still." She whispered, and began to saw at the ropes binding her to the rock.

"Are you the one?" Elaine repeated.

"Am I the what?" Francis asked, pausing in her task.

"Are you the one that I'm to marry, then?" Elaine asked.

Francis gaped at her. "What?"

Elaine sighed. "You honestly don't think that a dragon could tie me to this rock, do you?" She asked.

The pieces fell into place. "Your father set this up, didn't he?" She said slowly.

Elaine nodded.

"He's a bit of an asshole, isn't he?"

Elaine nodded again. "That's what I keep saying."

"So let me get this straight – I kill the dragon and rescue you, and I win your hand in marriage?" Francis asked.

"Pretty much."

Francis sighed. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. "Well, first things first – let's work on killing this dragon and living to tell the tale."

She hustled Elaine outside, pushing her behind a rock. "Stay here, okay?" She instructed. "I think I know a way to kill it, but I want to be sure that you're safe."

Elaine nodded. Francis turned to go, but Elaine grabbed her. "Francis?" She said.

"Yes?" Francis asked.

Elaine kissed her on the cheek. "Good luck." She whispered.

Francis charged towards the mouth of the cave, one thought ringing in her mind.

_I'm in love with Elaine._

Okay – now things were about ten times more complicated.

Shit.

::::::::::::::::::::

It is a little-known fact that even though dragons are fire breathers, they are just as susceptible to smoke as any other creature. So when Francis lit a smoking bonfire, the dragon within the cave began to cough and tear up. He poked his head out of the cave, growling and searching for the source of his annoyance.

That was when Francis, standing at the top of the cave, jumped on top of him, sword pointed downwards, driving her blade straight through the monster's throat.

The resulting death was horrific. The creature gurgled, coughing up blood and making all manner of horrible sounds, writhing in agony for roughly two minutes as his blood coated the ground and smeared his gleaming scales. His tongue swelled up, lolling out of his mouth as his eyes rolled back until only the whites could be seen. He thrashed, his tail hitting the rocks so hard that it caused the cave to collapse on top of him. Francis went flying, landing with a hard thud onto the ground, her head pounding. Fortunately, the cave-in finally snapped the dragon's thread of life, and he stilled.

Elaine ran over to Francis, helping her up off the ground. "Are you all right?" She asked, worried.

Francis shook her head. "I'm fine." She said, coughing a little from the smoke and being winded from the fall. "Let's get you home."

The ride back was a quiet one. The implications of what would happen if she were to marry Elaine were distracting Francis, making her uncommunicative and distant. By the time she suggested a campsite for them to stay for the night, Elaine had gone from perplexed to concerned to annoyed and back to concerned again (with a random stop at denial).

"Is everything all right?" She asked.

Francis slipped off the horse, and then turned to help Elaine down. Despite their many riding lessons, she never could quite get a hang of the dismount.

"Everything's fine." Francis insisted.

Elaine gingerly slipped off the horse, landing in Francis' arms. Francis set her down like she was a pillar of fire and quickly set about clearing the area. Elaine watched her quietly.

"You're usually much more talkative than this." Elaine noted.

"Am I?" Francis said. She finished clearing the brush and started to build a fire.

Elaine fixed her with a look. "What's wrong, Francis?" It wasn't a request.

Francis stood up and went to the satchel she'd brought. She drew out the blanket and things for the tea. "Hold on while I get this warmed up for you." She said. She jerked her head towards the satchel. "There's something else in there for you, as well."

Elaine went over to the bag and reached inside. She pulled out the butcher paper and the charcoal. "Is this… is this to draw on?" She asked, staring at it carefully.

"Yes. I know it's not your fine paints, but I couldn't take that with me on the–" Francis was cut off as Elaine leaped over and hugged her fiercely. Taken aback, she just crouched there stiffly until Elaine pulled back.

"Thank you." Elaine said softly.

Francis nodded, her throat tight. "I just thought that you might like it because you like art and drawing is similar to painting, even though it's not exactly the same, but as I told you…" She stopped, swallowing.

Elaine smiled. "Has anyone ever told you that you tend to talk in circles?" She asked.

Francis grinned. "Maybe once or twice…"

After that, things were normal again. They chatted, Elaine drinking her tea and Francis toasting some bread for both of them, until the fire dimmed and they slept. They both carefully avoided the subject of what would happen when they got back to the imperial court.

The next morning, Francis awoke just as dawn was beginning. A light mist still hovered over the grass, slightly distorting things and reminding her of when she was little, and Sarah would tell her and Alice stories of enchanted woods and magical adventures. She looked over at Elaine. The princess was still deep under the spell of sleep, her dark hair framing her face, her wide eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Francis watched her for a long time.

She would have to refuse Julius' offer, if that was indeed what this whole thing was about. Finding a good husband for Elaine, and all. Most of the more powerful kings in the area had only daughters, and with Prince What's-his-name betrothed to Midas' daughter, the pickings were slim. She supposed that Julius thought an extremely daring and brave knight would still be a good bet, even if he weren't from a powerful royal family.

But how could she refuse without seeming rude? The emperor was notorious for his temper. And what about Elaine? She would be hurt, thinking that Francis didn't like her. Francis doubted that someone like Elaine, so educated, so talented and sweet, could ever love a rough-and-tumble person like Francis, but still, rejection always stings.

And their friendship… it was the most precious thing that Francis had. She'd lose it. She'd most likely be sent home in disgrace. She would lose everything.

But she couldn't marry Elaine, not with this lie hanging over her head. Elaine would be shocked, and perhaps even a bit horrified. Francis had grown up studying law, in preparation for marrying a great lord – she knew the rules. Her feelings towards Elaine were considered illegal in at least three kingdoms.

She needed to clear her head. For Francis, that meant doing something physical. She'd prefer to go for a ride, but if Elaine woke up and saw Fet missing, she would fear that she'd been abandoned.

There was a lake nearby, where she'd stopped to give Fet a drink on her way towards the dragon's lair. She could go for a swim, and be back before Elaine woke up.

As quietly as she could, Francis rose and left.

:::::::::::::::::::

Elaine stretched, her eyes still closed. Her back was a little sore from sleeping on the hard ground, but other than that she felt fine. She opened her eyes, blinking as she took in her surroundings.

The sun was barely rising in the distance, banishing the remaining wisps of morning mist. A few embers left over from their fire still glowed, and Fet had woken and was quietly nibbling on some grass near where he was tied.

Francis was nowhere to be seen.

Elaine looked around, searching for the knight. Francis wouldn't have left without Fet, and Elaine dearly hoped that Francis wouldn't leave without her, so she must still be around somewhere. She couldn't have gone hunting, because although Elaine had seen Francis hunt before, Francis had only brought the sword this time.

Casting about in her mind for an answer, Elaine remembered stopping by a lake with her father's men on their way to the dragon's cave. They'd been very sympathetic to her plight, considering it pure idiocy for the emperor to risk his daughter's life just to choose a suitor. If memory served, that lake they'd stopped at was close at hand. Perhaps Francis had gone for a swim or something.

Rising, Elaine began to pick her way through the brush and down the slope of the hill. The slope quickly became a natural embankment, and she saw the lake stretching out before her. For a moment, it appeared empty, but then there was a great splash and a blonde head surfaced.

Elaine watched as a pretty blonde young woman, about her age, swam towards the bank. Her hair was shorter than average, and her body was much leaner and more toned and muscled than most ladies', but she was still very nice to look at. Elaine waited until the girl drew close enough, and then spoke.

"Pardon me?" Elaine said politely.

The girl turned, saw Elaine, and froze. Her eyes widened. Elaine pressed on. "Have you, by any chance, seen a young knight about?" She asked.

The young woman swallowed. "Um, no, no men around here." She said quickly. Her voice was higher pitched than Elaine had come to expect, but it was unmistakably familiar.

Elaine smiled, her eyes sparkling. "What about any young women pretending to be knights? See any of those?"

The girl gaped like a fish, which was aptly fitting for her current situation. Elaine laughed and made her way towards her.

"Honestly, Francis," She said. "What do you take me for? You think that I could spend several hours a day in your company and not figure it out?"

Francis continued to stare in disbelief as Elaine finished walking towards her and plunked herself down in the sand. Elaine gave her a look.

"And here I thought I was doing a good job of it." Francis finally managed to splutter.

"Well, you are for everyone else. I'm an artist, Francis. I study people." Elaine's eyes sparkled even more.

Francis lay down on the shore next to Elaine, letting the sun dry her back. "So… when you realized… you didn't say anything."

"Well, what could I say?" Elaine asked.

Francis shrugged. "And you're not angry?"

"Why would I be?" Elaine asked. "Your father doesn't have any boys, does he?" She said quietly.

Francis shook her head. "I was the youngest, so father let me do what I pleased. I was always a boyish person, so I learned how to hunt, and ride, and fight. When the emperor gave us the ultimatum, I disguised myself and came to save my family from war."

"And you've been living a lie ever since." Elaine said softly.

Francis nodded.

There was a long moment of thoughtful silence. It stretched on until, like a rubber band that is pulled too far, it snapped.

"You see now why the whole dragon thing is awkward." Francis said.

Elaine looked at her. "How so?" She asked.

Francis looked at her like she was a little crazy. "Well, I can't marry you." She said.

"And why not?" Elaine asked.

Francis stared at her. She swallowed. "Um… what?"

Elaine sighed. "Really, Francis, I'm surprised that you haven't realized it by now."

"I've never been good at reading you." Francis admitted ruefully.

"Then let me spell it out for you." Elaine sat back on her knees, looking straight at Francis. "I'm in love with you. I think it happened about a week after I figured out who you really were. I'm not sure. Father doesn't know – nobody knows. I'm perfectly happy to marry you, and keep it a secret, if you are. There, you see now?"

Francis swallowed again. "But Elaine – I can't ask you to keep that secret. And if they do find out–"

"But they won't." Elaine argued.

Francis sat up. "I can't." She shook her head. "You know how your father is, Lanie." Elaine smiled at the use of her nickname. "I love you, and I'm not going to let you risk your life like that."

Elaine rolled her eyes. "You're impossible." She said. She leaned forward and kissed Francis, pressing herself against her. When they broke apart, Elaine smiled. "Now tell me 'no'."

Francis closed her eyes. "Fine." She said slowly. "But we're being extra careful."

Elaine's eyes danced.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Francis was looking at a letter from Sarah when Elaine entered, her face flushed.

"Franny!" She whispered, hurrying over. Francis looked over at her wife and frowned. Elaine's eyes were glittering strangely, and her face was flushed.

"Lanie?" Francis asked. "What's wrong?"

"There's a rumor." Elaine whispered. "A rumor in the castle about us."

"Is it… is it the truth?" Francis asked slowly.

"Close enough." Elaine said. She blinked, tears standing in her eyes. "What are we going to do?"

Francis pulled her in, hugging her and holding her close. "We'll figure it out." She promised her. "I think I know of someone who might help.

That night, Francis crept out of her room, leaving Elaine to lie restlessly in their bed. She slipped down to the stables, grabbed Fet, and snuck out of the castle. The minute she was clear of the gates, she spurred Fet into a gallop, racing through the forests as she used to when she was younger. Only this time, there was a new urgency to her ride.

The lake was so large it appeared to never end. The water was dark, and smooth as glass. A gondola lay on the bank, its single iron lantern casting a tiny pool of yellow light. Francis approached it carefully.

"Stay here, boy." She said, tying up Fet on one of the trees. "I'll be right back."

The horse nickered fearfully, snorting and pawing the ground. "Shh." Francis said soothingly. She turned and headed towards the boat.

It was surprisingly easy to cast off and steer, and she silently made her way across the lake. She had no idea how long it took her – everything around her was the same: dark, foreboding, and silent.

After what might have been hours or perhaps mere minutes, she saw a matching yellow light in the distance. She headed towards it, finally reaching a small dock. A lantern, twin to the one on her boat, hung from a post. She docked the gondola and stepped out onto the wooden boards. There was no one there.

Francis looked around. "Hello?" She called out. She shook her head. "Crazy wizards…"

"Technically, dearie, my title is 'Dark One'." Said a high-pitched, giggling voice.

Francis whirled; hand on her sword, to find herself staring at a gold-skinned man. His hair was wild and unkempt, and his eyes were unnaturally wide, glittering like jewels. Francis let out her breath.

"Rumpelstiltskin, I presume?" She asked.

::::::::::::::::::::

_Present Day_

Fran and Ellie walked, hand in hand, down the street. They were headed towards Fran's house – it was almost dinnertime, and Fran's sister had finally gotten the girls to agree to have dinner with the family.

"Don't be nervous." Fran said. "They'll love you."

Ellie's eyes sparkled. "I don't think that I'm the one who's nervous, here."

Fran shook her head, but smiled. "You know me too well."

They paused just outside of Fran's house. "Will your niece be home yet?" Ellie asked.

"She should be back from school soon." Fran noted.

There was a sudden gust of wind, like a powerful gale in a storm. It blew them forward, making them stumble. The two girls blinked at each other.

Suddenly, things began to flash through Fran's mind. A lifetime's worth of images surging through her brain, as things she hadn't known she'd missed returned to her.

_Oh my gods…_

Fran – no, not Fran, Francis, she was Francis – turned towards Ellie. No, not Ellie; Elaine. Her Lanie. She looked just as shocked as Francis felt, staring blankly ahead of her with wide eyes.

"Elaine?" Francis said slowly.

Ellie, her memories restored, nodded. "Yes, yes I remember." She smiled, tears pricking her eyes. "I remember everything."

The girls hugged and whirled around, laughing. Suddenly, Francis froze in Elaine's arms. She pulled back slightly, catching her wife's face in her hands.

"Francis?" Elaine asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

Francis' face was one of a tragedy remembered. Her eyes were wide and intense, her face pale.

"Jefferson!" She whispered. "I have to find Jefferson!"

**Y'all didn't see **_**that**_** coming, now did you? Ooh, I love this feeling of power… is this how the OUAT writers feel? I think I can sympathize with their habit of stringing us along now…**

**And because I like to stir the pot, I'd like some input from you lovelies: Who do you think Dr. Whale **_**really**_** is?**

**Oh, and there's a Firefly reference in there. Catch it if you can!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Real quick, I just want to let you all know that yes, this story will deserve its M rating. Just give me a minute to introduce the canon characters, will you? Smut is coming, I promise!**

_Fairytale_

Fet's hooves thundered down the dirt road. Francis slowed him to a calmer trot, craning her neck as she gazed around her.

"He should be around here somewhere." She said.

They came upon a bend in the road. As soon as they'd rounded it, Francis saw what she was looking for – a small, well-built cottage, nestled in the woods. Her face broke into a smile, and she urged Fet forwards.

A handsome man, well dressed despite his odd clothing choices, was playing tag with a lovely young girl. She dashed about like a golden-haired elf, laughing delightedly in mock fear whenever the man almost snatched her.

"Hello over there!" Francis said, grinning.

The girl froze, and then dashed towards the horse and rider. "Franny! Aunt Franny!" She cried out, arms outstretched for a hug.

Francis leapt off her horse and scooped the girl up, whirling her around. "Hey there, Gracie girl!" She said. She set the girl down, holding her by the shoulders and staring at her in disbelief. "You're huge!" She proclaimed. "You're at least twice as big as when I last saw you! That's it – I'm tying a book to your head so you won't grow anymore."

Grace laughed. "That won't work." She said, shaking her head sagely.

Francis laughed as well. "I can at least try, can't I?" She asked. "C'mon – I need to go give that father of yours a big hug, too."

The two girls approached the man, who smiled at Francis. "Geez, Francis, you look like a knight or something." He joked. "What are you wearing – a tin can?"

"Hardy har har, Jefferson. I see you're still wearing those patchwork quilts." Francis teased. Jefferson opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, burying her nose into his shirt like a little girl. "I've missed you." She admitted softly.

Jefferson pulled back a little, gripping her shoulders as Francis just had done with Grace. "I'm glad to see you, Franny, but I'm going to guess that you're not here for tea and biscuits."

Francis rolled her eyes. "Am I that predictable?" She asked.

"Very." Jefferson assured her. "Why don't we go inside and you can tell me about it?" He turned towards his daughter, who was jumping off of a tree stump and flapping her arms, trying to fly. "Grace, I'm going to go inside with Aunt Franny, okay? You need anything, you come and find me."

"Okay!" Grace said, waving at them happily.

"I can't believe she's six." Francis commented.

"Neither can I." Jefferson admitted.

He led her into the house. Francis gazed around at the small but cozy area. There was a loft, for sleeping, but everything else was crowded into one large room downstairs. Still, it looked comfortable, and it had a definite feeling of home.

"I'll admit I was surprised to discover that you were living here." Francis said, sitting down in the chair Jefferson offered her. "I thought you'd be living with Father, serving as a counselor or something, once your term with Regina was up." She looked around again, realizing that something was off. "Jefferson…" She said slowly. "Where's Alice?"

Jefferson had begun to boil some tea, and nearly dropped the kettle at her question. He turned around, and now that Francis was looking, she could see the subtle signs. The hollow look in his eyes and the bags underneath them; the stubble from lack of shaving; the slightly unkempt hair and askew shirt collar…

Francis swallowed. "Jefferson." She said slowly. "What happened?"

Jefferson sat down across from her, fixing her with his trademark intense gaze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and hoarse. "Alice is dead." He said.

Francis stared at him. "Dead?" Her voice cracked on the word, cutting it in half. "When? How?"

Jefferson sighed and looked at the floorboards, summoning up the courage to recant his tale. "It was to be my last mission for the Queen." He explained quietly. "Alice went with me. She'd been begging me to let her go with me for a while now, and since it was the last time, I agreed. I didn't… I didn't expect the Queen to have any form of contact with… I guess it's the whole mirror thing. In any case, we were captured by the Queen of Hearts."

Francis couldn't think, could hardly breathe. Jefferson soldiered on. "She didn't care about me; she was just after Alice. Regina had told her… she'd said that Alice was trying to steal the Throne of Hearts back. So when she got Alice…"

"Off with her head." Francis said softly, repeating a phrase she'd heard from Alice many a time.

Jefferson nodded, his eyes reddening with tears. He tried to speak but choked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "When it was finished, I broke down. I'm not… I couldn't… I couldn't save her, Francis. I saw red. I couldn't think. But something I said must have gotten through to her because she used her mirror to contact Regina. She demanded to know why Regina had lied. She said that she'd killed her own niece for nothing. She promised… she promised that someday, she'd take something of Regina's in revenge."

"And then?" Francis prompted.

"And then she let me go. Told me never to return to Wonderland." Jefferson said simply.

Francis sat there, her body numb with shock and horror. "I don't understand. Why wasn't I told about this? Why didn't anyone let me know?"

Jefferson shook his head. "I thought Sarah had told you."

Francis sighed. "She probably wanted to wait until I visited to tell me in person. She knew that Alice and I are…" She stopped, swallowed, and amended her statement. "We were close."

"I'm sorry." Jefferson said brokenly. "I couldn't save her, Francis. I lost her. I am so, so sorry…"

Francis stood up, walked over and hugged him. She meant to be comforting, but she ended up being the one comforted as tears overcame her and she climbed into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder. Jefferson held her like a child, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"It's not your fault." Francis whispered. "I promise that it's not your fault." She pulled back and sat back down in her chair. "So you took Grace away."

He nodded. "I just couldn't face your father. Looking at him every day, knowing that I took away his favorite daughter…"

"She was the most like mother." Francis agreed quietly. "I wouldn't say favorite – he loves Sarah, who's a lot like him – but Alice reminded him of mother."

"I'm sorry." Jefferson repeated.

"Don't be." Francis said firmly. "Father's grown to view you as family – we all have. You're like the brother I always wanted growing up. None of us blame you. We can't dwell on what might have been."

He fixed her with another intense look. "Spoken like a wise woman." He said.

"Spoken like someone who's had a wise brother-in-law to listen to." Francis said, smiling gently but earnestly.

"Which reminds me; didn't you come here for advice?" Jefferson asked.

Francis sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes." She admitted.

Jefferson leaned back, a hint of his old humorous self surfacing. "And I'm willing to bet my hat that it's about a special someone."

Francis bit her lip, but didn't say anything. She didn't need to; her face gave everything away. Jefferson grinned. "Oh, so it is, is it?" He leaned forward. "This should be good. Who is he?"

"She." Francis corrected. "Her name is Elaine."

Jefferson looked at her for a moment like he was examining a bug under a magnifying glass. Then he nodded, satisfied. "All right, then." He said. "And does this Elaine like you, too?"

Francis nodded. "That's not the problem."

Jefferson suddenly recalled something. "This Elaine wouldn't be Princess Elaine, the only child of Emperor Julius whom you serve under, would it, little sister?"

Francis sighed. "That's the one."

"Rumor has it there was a kidnapping attempt by a dragon and someone rescued her…?" Jefferson trailed off, grinning madly.

Francis huffed. "Okay, yes, that whole dragon thing happened. But it was set up by Julius to choose who would marry Elaine! When we got back, he gave this huge speech about my valor and stuff, naming me the 'Bravest in the Land' and declaring that I would marry his daughter. It was utter bullshit! The asshole set it all up himself!"

"He has shown himself to have a flair for the dramatic." Jefferson noted. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that, in case you haven't noticed, brother, I'm a girl. I lack certain essential male parts." Francis said sarcastically. "If anyone finds out, I'll get exile at the least."

"So what are you saying?" Jefferson asked.

Francis shrugged. "I don't know. I just need someone to vent to, I suppose. I can't burden Elaine with it – she's already agreeing to too much by keeping my secret."

"So she loves you, too."

Francis nodded.

Jefferson leaned forward, his gaze intense beyond anything Francis had ever seen. "Then go for it, Francis. Seize it. If you get a chance at love, you don't let anything stand in your way. I'm going to be carrying the guilt of losing Alice for the rest of my life but by the gods, I wouldn't trade it in for anything because I got to spend the happiest years of my life with her. She gave me Grace, Francis. I had love, if only for a little while, and that makes it worth it. Don't you dare give up this chance, Francis, come what may. You get a chance at love you take it and you hold on to it and you never let it go. You fight for it with every breath in your body. You understand me?"

Francis nodded, overwhelmed by his conviction.

"Promise me you'll fight for it, Francis."

Francis swallowed. "I promise, Jefferson. I love her. I'd… I'd die for her, I swear."

Jefferson nodded, satisfied. "Then I think you have a wedding to get ready for, little sister."

Francis lunged forward and hugged him. "Thank you." She whispered.

Jefferson wrapped an arm around her but said nothing.

She wished that she could stay for dinner, but she had to get back to the emperor's court. She said goodbye to Grace, mounted Fet, and rode home.

She would do as she had promised Jefferson. She'd seize her chance at love. And fight for it with every breath in her body.

_Fairytale – Flashforward_

"Rumpelstiltskin, I presume?" Francis asked, trying to be polite and intimidating at the same time. She hoped that she came across as nonchalant. In all honesty, she didn't see what was so scary about this impish creature, but she knew from experience that the most extraordinary things lay beneath ordinary surfaces.

"That's my name – don't overuse it!" The gold-skinned spellweaver said, doing a mock bow. "What can I do for you on this fine evening, Lady Knight?"

"I need a spell, or a potion, or something, that will make people think…" She stopped. She was going to say 'make people think that my relationship with Elaine is okay', but even she knew that there was no spell on earth to change people's mindsets so thoroughly. "I need people to think I'm a boy."

The magic-wielding imp clucked his tongue. "Can't do that, dearie. Not possible."

"Then what can you do?" Francis asked.

Rumpelstiltskin looked impressed. "This is usually the part where people point a sword at my nose." He mused. "I applaud your patience, dearie."

Francis sighed. "Look, I know that you can do _something_ to help. You're not whispered about or called a demon for nothing. I don't believe those stories but I know that you have magic. You can help me. So – what's your angle?"

The Dark One thought for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Ah! As a matter of fact, there is a little something that would work… but it's a bit drastic, O Brave One. I'm not sure if you'll be interested."

"If it'll keep Elaine and I together – and keep her safe – then I'll do it." Francis said determinedly.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Quite the believer in love, aren't you, dearie?" He said.

"If you have even a chance at love, you fight for it with everything you have." Francis said.

The dark wizard looked struck by that, his eyes widening. "You remind me of someone…" He muttered. Then he shook his head. "Never mind that. All right, then; the only thing I could do that might help you is to give you… this vial." A small vial appeared out of nowhere. He held it up between his fingers, giving Francis a good look at it. "It will turn you into a boy."

Francis stared at him. "What?" She said.

"You heard me. The only way people will accept your love is if one of you is a man, and one of you is a woman, yes? You've pretended to be a boy all this time – this potion will make it so."

Francis stared at the bottle suspiciously. She didn't like the idea – she was happy being a woman, thank you very much – but the imp was right. It was her only option.

"And what do I give you in return?" She asked. "Nobody gets something for nothing."

"Very true, dearie, very true!" Rumpelstiltskin said triumphantly, drawing out the 'e' in the 'very'. With a flourish, he caused a contract to appear out of nowhere. "Just sign this little beauty," At this, a golden pen appeared, "And you can be on your way."

Francis stared at the contract for a moment, then snatched it up along with the pen. Instead of signing it, however, she began to read it very carefully from beginning to end. When she was finished, she tossed the paper onto the ground.

"Deal's off." She declared. "I am _not_ giving you our first-born child!"

Rumpelstiltskin brought his hands together and clapped slowly. "Well done!" He said, giving a maniacal giggle. "You're the first one to ever actually read the contract. Silly of people, isn't it? Ooh, this is good, this is good…"

Francis glared at him. "Keep your ridiculous potion." She spat. "I'm not giving any child to a beast like you."

The dealmaker stopped giggling immediately. "That was cold, dearie." He said quietly. His voice was low and deadly, but Francis continued to glare at him. "I wouldn't advise you using that word on me again."

"You might scare everyone else, but you'll need to work a little harder to frighten me." Francis said, her voice just as deadly. "Go fool some other idiot with your bargains; I'll make no deal with you."

She turned and headed back to the boat.

"Suit yourself!" The madman called after her. "But when you head's on the chopping block, don't come crying to me!" He began to giggle madly again.

Francis got into the boat and shoved off, not even bothering to look back.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The minute Francis entered their bedroom, Elaine shot out of bed and ran over to her. "Did you find him? Will he help us?" She asked, nearly frantic.

Francis sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "He can't help us." She said dully.

Elaine knelt at her feet, resting her head on Francis' knee, gazing up at her. "Why not?" She asked.

"He said the only thing he could do would be to give me a potion that would turn me into a boy." Francis explained. "And if that wasn't bad enough, in return he wanted our first-born child."

Elaine stared at her wife for a long moment. "Do it." She said finally.

Francis' head shot up. She stared at Elaine as if she'd sprouted another head. "What?" She asked disbelievingly.

"Take the deal." Elaine said. She rose up and sat next to Francis, taking her hands in hers. "What other choice do we have, Franny? I'll admit I'd prefer you not to change, but you'll still be you. I'd love you if your skin turned purple."

"But our child, Lanie!" Francis protested. "How could we do that to ourselves, or to our child?"

Elaine closed her eyes as if in pain. "I hate it." She said quietly. "I hate it as much as you do. But I'd rather risk something I don't yet have, then lose what I already do." She opened her eyes. "Please, Franny; if you don't take the deal, I'll lose you. I can't bear to lose you."

_You fight for it with every breath in your body._

She had promised her brother – and she had promised herself, as well. She would do anything to keep Elaine.

"All right." Francis said slowly. "I'll take the deal."

She rose to leave, but there was a powerful knock on their door. Elaine darted behind Francis, who drew her sword.

"Who goes there?" Francis demanded.

"It is the Royal Guard!" A voice on the other side of the door shouted. "Open this door immediately!"

"Why don't you break it down?" Francis challenged.

There was the sound of pounding and wood splintering, and then the door burst open, revealing the entire company of the emperor's personal guards crowding the hallway outside. They poured in.

"What's going on?" Elaine asked. Francis raised her sword menacingly.

"We are here on orders of the emperor to arrest you both, for lewd and unlawful acts against nature." One of the guards, obviously the captain, recited.

"Just try it." Francis snarled.

"Don't fight them – they'll just kill you." Elaine whispered, clinging to her.

Francis weighed her odds. There were at least twenty of them, if not more, and although she was skilled with a sword, nobody was _that_ good. She put down her weapon and raised her hands.

The guards sprung on her, forcing her onto her knees and wrenching her hands behind her back. Francis could hardly see, but she could hear Elaine cry out, "Father! What is the meaning of this?"

There was a pause, and then…

"Seize her, as well." The emperor's voice was as smooth and cold as steel.

"No!" Francis cried, struggling valiantly. Guards forced Elaine down as well, despite her protests. "Don't touch her! Let her go!" Francis nearly wrenched out her shoulder trying to fight against them.

"She is just as guilty as you are, pathetic bitch." Emperor Julius stated. "You will both die–"

"I bewitched her!"

Francis had no idea where such a thought had come from. Perhaps a magical deal with a dark wizard had planted the seed, or perhaps a tale from her childhood. Whatever it was, out of sheer desperation, she shouted it out.

Everyone stared at her.

"I'm a witch." Francis explained. "I bewitched the princess into thinking I was a boy. Even now, she labors under my spell." She shot Elaine a look, begging her to play along.

Elaine stared, horrified at what Francis was saying.

"Is there any way to break the spell?" Julius demanded.

Francis swallowed. "I just have to say the magical phrase." She said. She looked right at Elaine, willing her to understand.

_This is my only chance to save you. I can't let you die._

"Fet-Frunners." Francis whispered.

The emporer and the guards all turned to look at Elaine, who blinked slowly. "Where… where is my husband?" She asked. "Who is this woman what – Father, what is going on?"

Julius sighed, relieved. "Well, that's sorted out." He said. He motioned to the guards. "The witch dies at Wintertide in two week's time. Death by burning at the stake."

Elaine's eyes widened in horror as all of the blood rushed out of her face. Francis kept her gaze locked on her, silently pleading with her to keep up the pretense. Elaine watched, silent and terrified, as Francis was dragged away and she was left alone.

"Don't worry, my dear." Julius said as he left the room. "She will get what she deserves."

Elaine broke down into sobs.

_Storybrooke_

"Aunt Franny?" Grace came running out of the house, Sarah and Marcus right behind her.

"Grace!" Francis cried, hugging the girl. She looked up at her older sister and her brother-in-law. "Do you remember?"

Sarah nodded, her face pale but resolute.

"What about Papa?" Grace asked. "Where is he?" She looked around. "Why isn't he here?"

"Don't you remember, Gracie girl?" Francis asked. "I promised you that I'd find him. In fact, that's what I'm going to go do right now, okay?"

Grace nodded, her face tight with worry. Francis stood up and went over to Elaine. "I have to find Jefferson." She explained.

Elaine grabbed her arm. "Don't you dare leave me again, Francis." She warned. "I'm going with you this time."

Francis opened her mouth to argue, but froze. She gazed over Elaine's shoulder at something behind her. Elaine turned, gasping and clutching at Francis.

A great black cloud, crackling with purple energy, was rolling towards them at a ferocious pace.

"Get inside!" Marcus yelled, guiding his wife and niece into the house.

Francis had seen this kind of magic before, and she knew that no house could stop it.

"Hold onto me." She whispered, grabbing Elaine and holding her close.

"Don't leave me." Elaine begged.

Francis held her as the cloud swept over them. "I'll never leave." She promised, even though she knew it was a promise she might not be able to keep.

**If you're wondering why I thought up the name Fet-Frunners, that's actually the name that the girl Francis is based on originally takes up when she pretends to be a boy. I thought that sounded a little ridiculous, so I gave it to her horse instead.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm quickly becoming addicted to these cliffhangers. Whoopsy daisy.**

_Fairytale_

Francis paced in her tiny cell, the only way to let out her frustration. Wintertide was tomorrow – the annual celebration of the winter solstice. This year, it would be highlighted by a gruesome spectacle.

Her death.

The only thing keeping her from screaming and beating her fists against the walls was the knowledge that Elaine was safe. In believing Francis to be a witch, the emperor and general populace viewed the princess as a victim, innocent of any true wrongdoing.

Francis peered through the bars in the tiny window roughly four feet above her head. Judging by the position of the moon, she had six hours until dawn. Six hours left to live. She'd hoped that Elaine would spend this last night with her, but she was probably under guard or perhaps even locked in her room, so Francis understood if she was unable to be with her.

A small sound, like the crunching of boots, caused her to turn. She peered down the dark hallway. Her area of the dungeon was deserted, so it wasn't a prisoner, and the closest guards were two turns of the corridor away, so it couldn't have been them.

There was another sound. It was definitely a footstep. Francis strode over to her cell door, grasping the bars and pressing her face against them. For a moment she could see nothing. Then a shape emerged from the darkness.

"Elaine?" Francis asked.

The figure drew closer. It was definitely a woman, but it wasn't Elaine.

"Snow?" Francis said, puzzled.

Francis?" Snow White asked, equally confused.

"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since I was… how old?"

"I haven't seen you since you were this high!" Snow indicated her knee.

Francis made a face. "I was never _that_ small."

"Well, that or thereabouts." Snow smiled. She looked around. "I'm, um, here on a mission. Seems that an old childhood friend of James – well, James' brother, but that's a long story – has some love trouble and asked for his help in springing her true love free so… here we are."

Francis cleared her throat. "Was this childhood friend named Elaine, by any chance?" She asked.

"That's the one." Snow nodded. "What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"Uh…" Francis smiled self-consciously. "I'm Elaine's true love." She wiggled her fingers in a goofy wave. "Hi."

Snow stared at her for a moment. "Okay then." She withdrew a ring of keys from her belt. "Time to get you out of here." She set to work on the lock.

"Snow?" Francis asked timidly.

"Hmm?" Snow asked, focusing on the lock.

"Does this… change, anything?" Francis asked.

The lock opened, and Snow stepped back, swinging open the door for Francis. "To me, you'll always be the little daredevil that helped me tease Alice about her crush on my stepmom's assistant." Snow winked. "Nothing's ever going to change that."

Francis grinned. "All right, then."

"C'mon – we've got some horses waiting outside." Snow grabbed the younger girl's hand eagerly and led her out of the castle.

On a small hillside about a quarter of a mile from the castle waited two sleek black horses. Prince James sat on one, while the other held…

"Lanie!" Francis flew the last few feet towards her wife. Elaine dismounted from the horse – misjudging the landing, as usual, and tumbling to her knees, but quickly getting to her feet and running towards her as well.

They collided in a bruising flurry, hugging tightly and whirling together. "You did it, Lanie, you did it!" Francis said. "You brave, wonderful, fantastic girl!"

Elaine laughed. "It was all James." She insisted. "If it weren't for him and Snow, you'd still be in there."

"So what's this about being childhood friends?" Francis asked as she helped Elaine back onto the horse.

"James and I played together for a bit when we were little." Elaine explained. "I heard that he had recently gone against his father for love, so I thought if anyone would help us and understand our plight, it would be him."

"Technically, I'm James' twin brother." The prince explained as Snow slipped easily behind him on the horse. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. They fit like two puzzle pieces. "But Snow insisted we help out."

"I had no idea that it was you," Snow said, "But it's great to see you again after all of this time."

"So much has changed." Francis noted wistfully. "You're an outlaw, Alice is dead…"

"Alice is dead?" Snow gasped, horrified.

Francis nodded. "It's a long story. I'll tell you… later."

"Thank you again." Elaine said earnestly. "We owe you Franny's life, and therefore mine."

Francis got down on one knee, bowing her head. "Your majesties – for though you are outlaws, the crowns of your kingdoms do belong to you – I offer you my services. I swear to you that, if you let me, I will serve you and your children until my dying day; including helping you in your quest to take back your thrones."

Snow dismounted and laid a gentle hand on Francis' shoulder. "We accept your oath gratefully." She said, smiling softly. "We are assembling a camp in the forests now; if you will come with us, I know that everyone would welcome you."

"We will do so gladly." Francis said. She stood up and mounted her horse.

"Did you miss me, Fet?" She said, smiling and patting his neck. The loyal steed nickered softly. Francis chuckled. "You ready?" She asked, twisting her head so that she could look over her shoulder at Elaine.

Elaine slipped her arms around Francis and kissed her neck. "If you're going, then I'm going." She declared.

With a nod to James, Francis urged her horse into a gallop, following the prince and the fairest in the land to their new home.

_Fairytale – Flashforward_

Francis made a sweeping motion with her hand, directing the mass of people flooding the castle grounds. "Everyone remain calm, please! No pushing, shoving, yelling or hexing!" This last comment was directed at some local good witches, who looked panicked enough to possibly freak out on someone.

"I don't get why they're all coming here." Grumpy muttered. "It's no safer here then in their villages."

"It gives them a sense of community, I suppose." Francis shrugged. "Besides, this is the standard drill for large-scale emergencies; it's why castles were built. Everyone into the impenetrable fortress, we'll be safe from invaders – that kind of thing."

"This is no ordinary invader, sister." Grumpy reminded her.

Francis didn't hear him. She'd spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Unlike the commoners, these people were on horses.

"Sarah! Marcus!" Francis yelled, waving her arms.

Her sister and brother-in-law wove their way through the crowd, parking their horses next to Francis. It was then that she saw the golden-haired, solemn faced girl sitting in front of Sarah on the horse.

"Gracie girl!" Francis said, smiling. "What are you doing here? Where's your daddy?"

Grace looked stricken, and slipped off the horse before Sarah could stop her. She barreled into Francis and hugged her tightly.

"Whoa, Grace; what's wrong?" Francis said, hugging her back, surprised.

Sarah and Marcus dismounted. "Jefferson's vanished." Sarah explained quietly.

"What? When? How?" Francis asked, her blood rushing cold.

Marcus shook his head. "We don't know." He said helplessly. "He left Grace with some neighbors, saying he'd be back in a couple of days. He never returned. They left her with us, seeing as we're family, and promised that if Jefferson came back they'd send word of where Grace was. We haven't heard of him or seen him in months."

Francis trembled. First Grace had lost her mother and now her father; the best father that anyone could ever hope for in their wildest dreams. Francis wanted to cry for Grace, and for herself as well. How could she fail her family like that? How could she lose her brother?

An idea struck her, and she bent down to get to eye level with Grace. "Grace…" She said slowly. "Right before your father left, was there anything unusual going on? Say, a strange visitor?"

Grace thought for a moment. "A few days before he left, we were out picking mushrooms and when we got back, there was this big black carriage at the house. He told me to go play, so I did while he went into the house. A little later this lady left in the carriage. But that was it." She shrugged.

Francis felt hot, and not from the temperature. She was furious and trembling again. That low down dirty bitch…

She stood and looked at Sarah. "He's in Wonderland."

"What?" Sarah blanched.

Francis nodded. "It's the only explanation. Queen Regina convinced him to go back there – probably threatened Grace or something. He's probably stuck there."

"But Franny…" Sarah said slowly. "What if he's…" She sliced her finger across her throat.

"Then I'll just have to find out, won't I?" Francis said grimly. She crouched back down to talk to Grace. "Listen, Gracie girl." She said. "Do you trust me?"

Grace nodded.

"Then trust me when I promise you that I'm going to find your father and bring him back." Francis said, meaning every word. "I'm going to get him back. I swear it."

Grace wrapped her arms around Francis' neck. "If anyone can get him back, it will be you." She whispered into her ear.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"My lord!" Francis strode into the War Room. James, Snow, the Blue Fairy, Jiminy Cricket and Red were all talking at the round table. They looked up as Francis entered.

"How many times do I have to remind you to stop calling me that?" James teased.

"I'm sorry." Francis sighed. "I have a great favor to ask of you, your highnesses."

"What is it?" Snow asked.

Francis took a deep breath. "My brother in law has gone missing. He is, I believe, in Wonderland. I beg for your permission to go and find him."

James frowned. "Isn't he the Hatter? A servant of Queen Regina?"

"He was." Francis corrected. "He left her service years ago. She cost him the life of his wife – my sister."

The royal couple looked at each other, communicating without words. They turned back to Francis.

"Your request is granted." James said. "But I have to warn you that the time of the attack is drawing near; it won't be long before it strikes, and we don't even know in what form it will appear."

"I promise that I shall return as soon as I am able." Francis assured them.

"Then go; and good luck to you." James said.

Francis smiled gratefully, bowed, and left the room.

::::::::::::::::

She found Elaine gazing out of the window of their shared bedroom, staring down at the mass of people in the courtyard.

"I saw Sarah and Grace." She said as Francis entered the room. She turned and looked at her. "Where's Jefferson?"

"In Wonderland." Francis said shortly. "Elaine… I'm going to find him."

Elaine gave a small, sad smile. "I thought you would say that." She stood up and walked over to her, fiddling with the collar of Francis' shirt.

"I'll be back soon." Francis promised. "Before the Queen strikes."

Elaine said nothing for a long moment. "How will you get there?" She asked finally. "Jefferson must have lost his hat or something, or else he'd have come back."

"There's more than one way into Wonderland." Francis said cryptically.

"But what about the Queen of Hearts?" Elaine asked. "She isn't exactly fond of intruders, and even less so of your family."

"It's… complicated." Francis sighed. "But I'm not going to be bothering her. It's Jefferson I'm after."

Elaine bit her lip and looked down at the ground, her classic thinking pose. "There's nothing I can do to stop you." She said quietly. "I know you two are very close."

Francis took Elaine's chin in her hand and pushed upwards so that their eyes met. "I will be back." She said. "I swear, Elaine. Nothing could keep me from you; you know that."

"I know." Elaine whispered. Francis kissed her and turned to go.

Suddenly, Elaine lunged forward and grabbed Francis, turning her around and hugging her fiercely. She buried her face into Francis' neck, clutching at her.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you, too." Francis replied, holding her. She pulled back. "But hey – we'll have time together. I promise. And when have I ever failed to uphold my promises, hmm?"

Elaine smiled, but it was bittersweet. "Off you go, then. Go fetch that rascally brother of yours."

Francis stroked her cheek. "There's my Lanie." She murmured.

As she rode off, however, her thoughts were divided. A part of her wanted desperately to stay with Elaine, and help her friends prepare for this grave threat. But another part of her was terrified. She loved her brother in law, and desperately wanted to help him as he had helped her so many times. But she was frightened beyond words that by the time she got to Wonderland, it would be too late.

She had to do this. Not just for herself, but also for Grace, who needed a father… and, admittedly, for Alice as well. She couldn't save her sister, but she'd be damned if she let Alice's husband share the same fate as his wife.

Francis was journeying back to her homeland. Back to the forests she rode through as a girl. Back to the entrance that Alice had wandered through all those years ago.

Back to Rabbit's Hollow.

_Fairytale – Flashback_

"What book are you reading?"

Ten-year-old Sarah moved the book so that her seven-year-old sister couldn't read it. "It's nothing you would be interested in." She replied.

"It looks boring." Alice decided. "It doesn't have any pictures or conversations. What good is a book without pictures or conversations?"

Sarah sighed. "You'll understand when you're older. Now go bother Mother."

"She's napping. She says the baby is making her tired." Alice said, looking over at where their eight-months-pregnant mother sat with their father. Sure enough, the Queen was sleeping, her head in her husband's lap as he stroked her hair.

"Then go play or something. I'm busy." Sarah said, going back to her book.

"You're busy being boring." Alice retorted. She skipped off, deciding to try and find some woodland animals. They were much more interesting than boring books without pictures.

The forest on the edge of their picnic spot looked inviting. Alice stepped into the trees, soaking in the cool shade and shades of green surrounding her. She smiled, delighting in watching the dappled sunlight stream down, the golden beams dancing in the rich air.

She wandered, not knowing how far she was going, and not caring where she went. Eventually, though, a small sound gave her pause. She turned, frowning, looking for the source of the noise.

Out of the bushes popped a rather large white rabbit, wearing a maroon waistcoat jacket complete with a pocket watch on a thin golden chain. He dashed directly in front of young Alice and hopped through the bushes.

"Rabbit!" Alice called out, curious. "Where are you going, little bunny?" She ran after the creature, shoving branches and bushes out of the way. The heavy undergrowth prevented her from realizing where she was headed, and with a sudden sickening lurch in her stomach, she realized that she was stepping into thin air.

Alice tumbled down the steep slope, her blue and white dress becoming smudged with dirt as she skidded and rolled, before slamming to a very undignified spot, head over teakettle, in the middle of a good-sized hollow.

Brushing her blond hair out of her eyes, Alice slowly got to her feet and gazed around her. The hollow was rather unremarkable, with very little grass growing and a few stones poking out of the ground. There was a thumping sound, and the rabbit that she had been chasing appeared, headed straight for the middle of the hollow. Alice opened her mouth to call out to it, but then the animal took a flying leap into the air and literally dove for the ground. Alice watched in amazement as the creature vanished without a sound.

Gaping, Alice hurried over to the spot where the rabbit had disappeared. Peering down into the ground, she noticed that it seemed to shimmer in that spot, as though there were a shiny curtain drawn over the scene of the play. She reached her hand down and saw that it passed through the ground.

"Magic." The young girl breathed, fascinated. She leaned farther in to get a better look.

Still shaky from her great tumble down into the hollow, the child leaned in too far and promptly lost her balance, falling forward into the hidden hole and vanishing, just like the rabbit.

She fell for a great long while, bits of odd junk flashing past her eyes. She thought she caught glimpses other worlds, but she could not be sure, because the moment she saw them they were gone. After what felt like a second stretched into an hour, she landed once again on the ground with a loud thump. Hastily getting to her feet, Alice saw she was in a world of Technicolor fantasy, everything standing out like a strange dream. The flowers, the warped road, and the very grass were ten times more colorful and alive then anything at home.

"Carol?"

Alice turned towards the voice, confused. The Caterpillar perched on the immense flower frowned at her. "No, not her." He shook his head and sucked on his hookah. "Close enough, though."

"Carol is my mother's name." Alice offered.

"Hmm." The Caterpillar blew a thoughtful circle of smoke. "Better be careful then, child."

"Why?" Alice asked, stepping closer.

The Caterpillar sniffed. "So stupid, you humans. The Red Queen – well, she's the Queen of Hearts, now – won't stand for anyone of the White Queens here. She'll spell doom for you, child."

Alice frowned. "But I don't know any Queen of Hearts." She said, confused.

"And let's keep it that way." The Caterpillar said, puffing on his pipe.

Confused, Alice shrugged. "Well, good day, then." She said, backing away down the path. The Caterpillar didn't answer.

Alice continued on down the road, stopping occasionally to take in the sights. She had just stopped to inspect a flower that had, of all things, a face, when another inhabitant of this strange place addressed her.

"Well, you're certainly not from around here." The person observed.

Alice shot straight up, gazing up at the person standing in front of her. It was a tall, young man, in his late teens or perhaps early twenties. He had soulful eyes and dark hair that was perfect for running fingers through. His clothes fit him perfectly, although they rather reminded her of a patchwork quilt.

"Who are you?" Alice asked.

"I'm called Jefferson." The man held out his hand to her. "And you are?"

"I'm Alice." The young girl replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alice." Jefferson said, smiling as they shook hands.

Neither could explain it, but at that moment, a connection was formed. It felt like a strange tug at their gut, and then a settling in, like a part of them was finally home.

**The Wintertide festival is a reference to a fantasy trilogy that I adore called The Riryia Revelations. It's by Michael J Sullivan. I highly recommend it for any of you who want a good, meaty, fun read! I hope this chapter will tide you all over until I can post again – which, I'll admit, might not be for a while. More Jefferson and Alice coming up, as well as some good Rumbelle in the near future!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The rest of the tale of Jefferson and Alice! Buckle up!**

Alice really liked this Jefferson person. He was very attentive, listening to everything that she said, pointing out all the strange things in Wonderland (that, he explained, was the name of this world), and making her laugh. He asked her about her family and really seemed to care about what she said, instead of just listening to be polite. Of course, when you're a member of a rich family there is always a danger of being kidnapped and held for ransom, so Alice knew all about dealing with strangers. But Jefferson didn't feel like a stranger. It was as if she'd known him her entire life.

He took her back to his house, and they had lovely tea. They were just discussing how Alice had come into Wonderland when she mentioned the Caterpillar.

"So he told me I looked like Carol, who's my mother, and–"

Jefferson spit out his tea. "Wait – Carol as in, the White Queen?"

"I suppose so." Alice shrugged.

Jefferson slowly set down his cup on tea. "Alice…" He said slowly. "Who is your mother?"

"What do you mean?" Alice asked, puzzled.

"Well, how did she meet your father? What's her family like? Does she ever talk about when she was a little girl like you?" Jefferson asked.

Alice thought for a moment. "Well, Father likes to talk about how Mother just appeared in his life – he found her in the woods, frightened and alone, and so he brought her home. They fell in love and got married, and had Sarah and me and now we're getting another baby real soon."

"Do you know anything about her past?"

Alice shook her head. "Not really. She sometimes talks about how she had a sister, but she doesn't like to talk about it. She says it's very sad, and that when I'm older she can tell me about it."

Jefferson sat back slowly, his jaw set. "Alice." He said slowly. "I'm going to tell you a story, okay?"

Alice nodded happily.

"Once upon a time," Jefferson began. "There was a royal family that ruled over Wonderland. Some said that there was a bit of madness in them, but generally they were good people. At one point, the Queen and King of Hearts (that's what we call them here) had two little girls. One, the older, was named Louisa, and the younger was called Carol.

"I suppose the idea of a strain of madness running in the family must be true, because Louisa was definitely not normal. She was unusually bloodthirsty and ruthless. Saddened by this turn of events, the King and Queen knew that Louisa would never be a fit ruler, and so named the younger daughter Carol as their successor to the throne."

"That must have made Louisa very angry." Alice noted.

"It did." Jefferson nodded. "She waited until her parents died and then, when Carol tried to ascend to the throne, Louisa attacked her and all of her servants. She even killed Carol's fiancé. Carol herself would have died, but someone helped her to escape.

"You see, there was a family that had served the Heart Kingdom and its rulers for many years. At the time, there was a man and his son, only a couple of years older than you are now, Alice. The man used his magical hat, which has been passed down from father to son, to help transport Carol to safety. The loyal servant died for his efforts, but his son was spared. The boy kept the magical hat, as his father had died before teaching him how to make his own. The boy was banished, and told that if he showed his face again at the Royal Palace, he'd lose his head."

Alice looked carefully at Jefferson, then at the hat resting by his elbow at the table. She pointed. "That's the hat, isn't it?"

Jefferson nodded.

"And you're the boy, aren't you?"

Jefferson nodded again. He leaned forward. "You see why it's so dangerous that you're here, then?" He asked. "If the Queen finds you here, she'll kill you, thinking that you're here to steal the throne."

"But I'm not!" Alice protested.

"I know that, and you know that, but the Queen doesn't really listen to reason." Jefferson said calmly. "So I'm going to help get you to safety, okay?"

Alice nodded. Jefferson smiled. He stood up, grabbing the hat and setting it onto the ground. He beckoned for Alice to join him. She walked over and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

"There's going to be a big, swirling tornado type of thing, okay?" Jefferson said. "It's not going to hurt you. I'll hold onto you the entire time and make sure that you're safe."

Alice nodded. Jefferson bent down and spun the hat. Sure enough, everything began to whirl about, and Alice gripped Jefferson's hand even tighter.

"Ready?" Jefferson yelled. Alice bit her lip, her face pale, but nodded resolutely.

"One, two, three!"

On the last number, Jefferson and Alice jumped together, giving themselves over to the whirling, sucking dervish and falling into the hat.

When they emerged, they were standing just outside the castle where Alice lived. She smiled buoyantly.

"That was amazing!" She said happily. "Can we do that again?"

"Sometime." Jefferson promised her. "Right now, you need to get home."

He pointed at the castle, where Alice could see her sister and mother, along with her father and a bunch of his guards. Alice beamed up at Jefferson.

"Will you come and meet them? I know they'd love you!" She begged.

Jefferson shook his head. "Another time, okay?"

Alice nodded. "Okay." She turned to go, but paused. "I'll see you again, right?"

Jefferson smiled. "I promise."

Alice smiled and took off running. When she was about halfway to her family she stopped to turn back and wave.

When she looked back, Jefferson was gone.

:::::::::::::::::::::

"You're going to be on your best behavior for King Leopold and his family, aren't you, Franny?" Sarah asked warily.

The young girl grinned. "I promise."

Alice laughed. "I know that look." She said, ruffling her sister's hair. "No pranks!"

"And no running off into the woods!" Sarah added. She turned to Alice. "You'll scare Father to pieces. Remember when you ran off and he called all the guards to start a search party?"

Alice smiled, but it was pained. "I remember very well." She said softly. Upon her return, she'd told no one about her little adventure except for her mother. Carol had told her side of the story to her young daughter, sparing nothing. Alice had often wished to see that man she'd met there again, but she'd never been able to go back to Wonderland.

"King Leopold has a daughter, right?" Francis asked, jumping up and down with excitement. "I wonder if she'll like horses!"

"I'm sure she will." Alice said, smiling.

There was a commotion outside in the main courtyard. Sarah got up and peered out the window.

"They're here!" She announced excitedly.

All three girls barreled down the stairs before remembering themselves and walking sedately down to the courtyard. Well, Sarah and Alice remembered. Francis continued to run at breakneck speed, skidding to a stop in front of their father, King Leopold, his new wife Regina, and his daughter Snow White. The princess was a little younger than Alice. She had a gentle beauty, which was interesting considering her raven's wing hair and pale, creamy skin. The new Queen Regina was just as beautiful, but in a more striking, regal way.

The three sisters introduced themselves, and King Francis offered to lead the visiting royals inside. King Leopold turned to his personal retinue, directing them where to set up inside the castle. Queen Regina's retinue was smaller, consisting of only two people. One was much older, and introduced as her father Henry. The other…

Alice held in her gasp. He was unchanged, despite the passing of the years. Although, now that she was older, her attraction to him had gone from platonic to romantic. He was… well, he one of the handsomest men she had ever seen; and so few men were genuinely handsome these days.

"This is my special assistant Jefferson." Regina explained.

"Special in what way?" King Francis asked.

"He's my Hatter." Regina laughed. "I'm so sorry, but I simply cannot live without him. I have such a weakness for hats."

Alice recalled Jefferson's special hat, the one his father had before his untimely death. She had a gut feeling that Regina used Jefferson for more than her wardrobe needs.

Just then, he turned his head, and his eyes caught hers. Alice's breath caught in her throat, freezing and stopping her from moving or even breathing. She saw from his eyes that he recognized her. He didn't say anything as the group moved along, but Alice read the look in his eyes. He wanted to speak with her.

She desperately wanted to speak to him, as well.

They fell behind the rest of the group, who were all chatting merrily as they headed inside the castle.

"Jefferson?" Alice asked timidly. "Is it really you?"

"Alice." Jefferson stated her name, rolling it over his tongue like it was a holy name. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"You promised that you would." Alice reminded him.

"That I did." He noted. He snuck a glance at her from the side of his eyes. "You're beautiful."

Alice blushed, looking at the ground. "Thank you. You look… well…" She found herself at a loss for words.

"I just defy description, don't I?" Jefferson joked. "It's the vest, isn't it?"

Alice laughed. "Well, you haven't changed a bit." She looked him up and down. "How come you haven't aged?"

"Time runs differently in Wonderland." Jefferson said simply. "I got out about five years ago. I've been aging normally since then but…" He shrugged.

"But you knew my mother when you were a boy." Alice argued.

"Your mother was fifteen when she fled Wonderland, Alice." Jefferson said gently. "She was only six or so years older than I was."

Alice made a shocked face that, years later, her sister Francis would also make regularly. "I… I didn't know."

Jefferson shrugged. "It wasn't important." He smiled at her, and Alice felt unusually warm inside. "But tell me about yourself, Alice. What have you been up to all of these years?"

Alice filled him in, finding him to be just as attentive a listener as she remembered. He was funnier than she recalled – probably because she could fully appreciate his sly sense of humor and dry jokes now that she was older. His occasional sarcasm and alternation between fake cockiness and self-deprecating humor surprised her, but she found that she loved it.

Within two weeks of the visit, she found herself admitting (at least to herself) that she loved him.

Snow and Francis loved to tease her about it. Despite the difference in the girls' ages, they bonded over their goal to embarrass Alice. She took it in stride, but secretly chided them when no one else could hear. She didn't want to scare Jefferson off.

If he heard any of the teasing or whispers, though, he didn't acknowledge them. No one could make her feel at ease with a single look, or stir her blood with a simple touch. She craved time with him, and would have been happy to become Queen Regina's servant herself, if it meant being with him.

By the time the visit was over, it had been a month, and Alice was head over heels in love with Jefferson. And while she was a modest person, she suspected that he just might love her as well. Of course, to everyone else it was glaringly obvious; so much so, in fact, the two kings joked about it in private. Fortunately, King Francis had no issues with Alice marrying Jefferson, especially when Jefferson asked his permission and revealed to him his life in Wonderland.

The king laid a hand on Jefferson's shoulder, smiling a bit sadly. "You and your father helped to free Carol." He said quietly. "You gave her the chance to live a full and happy life which, although in my opinion was too short, she enjoyed immensely. You've shown such care and devotion to Alice thus far. I'm willing to trust you with her."

Jefferson, alas, could not stay with Alice, as his term of service with Regina was not over. The wedding ceremony was small and intimate, but lovely, and he promised to return as soon and as often as the Queen would allow him. The day he left was the worst day of Alice's life.

In the second year of their marriage, she discovered that she was pregnant. Perhaps it was the half-Wonderland, half-normal blood, but Sarah could not conceive no matter how hard she and Marcus tried, and Alice and Jefferson had almost given up hope when she felt her womb quicken with life. They were overjoyed, and Jefferson managed to finagle it with Regina that he could be there for the last few weeks of her term and see his baby daughter born.

"What do you want to name her?" Jefferson asked, his eyes shining with love and shock at his good fortune.

Alice gazed down at the tiny, warm little being in her arms. "Grace." She said, smiling. "I was thinking we could call her Grace."

"Grace." Jefferson said the name with just as much love as he said hers. "It's perfect."

"You two are so sickeningly romantic." Francis declared from her perch at the window seat, where she'd retreated after kneeling by Alice's bedside all night. "I could vomit if you don't cut it out."

"Just wait until you're in love, little sister." Jefferson declared, winking at her. "Then we'll see who has the last laugh."

Francis huffed and stuck out her tongue at him. Four months in service to the self-declared Emperor Julius and she could still have her moments of immaturity. Jefferson just grinned at her. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. Nothing.

The next few years were torture for both husband and wife. Jefferson served Regina loyally, never commenting on the things he had to do, but wishing with all his heart that his time with her would be over already.

Then, when Grace was almost six, it was time. One last mission, and then it would all be over. He'd be free – free to live with Alice and Grace, to be himself, free of blood and secrets and travelling to crazy worlds. It was driving him mad.

But Alice; sweet, stubborn Alice, had a bomb to drop.

"I want to go with you."

Jefferson blanched. "What?" He asked.

"I've always wanted to go back to Wonderland; you've known that." Alice said. "It's your final mission. What's the harm?"

Jefferson stared at her. "What's the harm?" He finally choked out. "Alice, you're the spitting image of your mother! The Queen of Hearts is half-mad on a good day. If she catches you, she'll cut off your head for shits and giggles!"

Alice stood calmly, letting him vent. "All you have to do is leave a message in a certain spot, correct? You won't even go near the Queen's palace. I'll be perfectly safe."

"But what about Grace?" Jefferson asked, seeking to use their daughter to keep her at home and safe.

"She will be perfectly safe with my father for a short bit." Alice said. She crossed the room and placed her hands lightly on Jefferson's chest. "Please." She whispered. "I just want to go back, just once."

In that moment, Alice proved that she was more like Elaine in nature than Francis, and that her husband was more like his young sister-in-law than either guessed.

Jefferson stared at her for a long moment. "If I say yes, you have to promise me that you'll do exactly as I say. I don't like taking people with me."

Alice nodded. "Of course. You're the expert." She smiled.

Jefferson couldn't help but smile back. "Just… please, do as I say, Alice. I can't… I don't want to lose you."

She shook her head, patting his chest. "I'll be fine. I trust you."

How Jefferson would come back to that conversation, running it over and over in his mind, in later years. And how he would come to hate himself because of those words.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Alice had never been to this part of Wonderland in her previous trip. The land was black and barren, and filled with strange, twisting purple rocks that leered over them. The sky was a dark, charcoal gray bordering on black, filled with crowds that cackled with energy.

"Where are we?" she asked, holding on to Jefferson's arm.

"We're in the Outlands." He explained. "Outside of the Chess Fields and the Heart Kingdom. The message I have to deliver is to be left away from the main area of Wonderland."

"Does anything live out here?" Alice asked.

"Nothing we want to run into."

They had just passed through a tall piece of rock that curved into a natural archway, when a strange, piercing cry filled the air. It was as if a person in the midst of great pain was moaning at the same time a chorus was giving a cacophony of high-pitched wails. Jefferson whirled, pushing Alice up against the rock.

"What is it? What's that?" She asked. Jefferson covered her mouth with his finger.

"Don't. Make. A sound." He warned, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear it.

The blood-curdling cry came again, this time closer. Alice trembled despite herself. Jefferson cursed under his breath, peering around the massive rock. "It's a Jabberwocky." He explained. "It must have caught our scent." He turned back, looking Alice full in the face. "We'll have to split up."

"No!" She whispered. "I'm not leaving you!"

"It won't stop until it finds us! We have to split up – it's the only way." Jefferson insisted.

Alice shook her head. "No, Jefferson, I am not agreeing to this."

"Yes, you are." Jefferson insisted. "Listen to me, Alice!"

She stopped struggling and listened.

"I couldn't bear to lose you." Jefferson whispered. "If you die here, it's my fault."

"No, it's no–"

"Please! Alice!" Jefferson begged.

Alice slumped against the rock. "Fine." She said resignedly. "But if you get hurt…"

"I won't." He winked. "I'll go. When you hear me yelling, run the opposite direction, okay?"

Alice nodded.

Jefferson kissed her quickly on the cheek, then took off around the corner. She stood there, pressed against the purple rock, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"Oi! You! The lizard with a face uglier than a troll! The Mock Turtle could outrun you!"

There was an outraged roar and the sound of stomping and the crashing of rocks, and Alice began to run, away from the noise. She'd gotten barely ten feet when she ran smack into something… something that had definitely not been there a moment ago.

She looked up.

It was another Jabberwocky. The huge creature had the body of a lizard, but the massive, curling tail of a snake. Its hind feet were splayed rather like a duck's, but its front feet were like thin, curved hands, with thin claws that snicker-snacked. Its neck was thin and bent down, and it had a head that was an unholy cross between a parrot and a fish. Its bat-like wings looked too small to carry it, but flapped menacingly nonetheless. Its skin was alternately scaly and leathery, but all the same dark color – a purple so deep and shiny it was almost black. Its huge, pupil-less yellow eyes peered down at her, and she realized that it was blind.

Unfortunately, it could smell just fine.

The creature let out a huge cry, just like the one they'd heard before Jefferson pulled her behind the rock, and lunged for her. Alice screamed and dodged to the left, the huge teeth just missing her. She could see that they were all sharp and pointy except for the front two, which were, strangely enough, buckteeth, like on a rabbit. The Jabberwocky lunged for her again and Alice began to run.

She could feel the massive monster behind her, its huge feet following her every move. Sometimes it would launch itself into the air, snapping at her as it flapped its wings furiously, only to come crashing to the ground again and resume its chase on foot. Alice looked around her. There was nothing but wasteland on three sides of her; but up ahead, a little to the left, she could see trees. She headed that way, her lungs nearly bursting as she forced air into her body again and again, pumping her arms and legs desperately, trying to stay one step ahead of the horrifying beast.

Alice reached the safety of the trees just as the Jabberwocky lunged once more, his head snaking between the giant plants but his body unable to follow. Its teeth caught on her dress, tearing it, but she kept running. The fiend let out a shriek of anger, but retreated. Yet Alice kept running, running frantically, and she didn't stop running until she'd reached the opposite end of the forest.

There she stopped, dry heaving, nearly retching as her body finally collapsed after all that she had put it through. When she'd finally caught breath enough to stand once more, and she could blink away the tears of exhaustion blurring her vision, she looked around.

Just ahead of her was a massive hedge wall, neatly trimmed and impossibly green. An opening, with a plant archway, was almost directly in front of where she stood. A red-and-white coat of arms, with a massive heart, was placed at the center of the arch. Alice wandered a little closer, staring at it. What was it?

Something tugged at her memory. It was something that Jefferson had told her… it had to do with the Queen of Hearts…

Alice gasped. This was it. This was the garden that surrounded the castle of the Queen of Hearts – also known as the Red Queen. This was the home of the woman who had tried to kill Alice's mother. This was… well, this was also the home of her aunt.

Knowing it was a bad idea, and knowing that Jefferson would panic if he knew what she was doing, Alice stepped into the maze, peering inside. The pathway was large enough to hold potted red rose trees on either side. If Alice jumped up, she could just glimpse a massive castle in the distance…

"What are you doing here?" Alice whirled around, nearly bumping into a tall guard wearing a suit of armor painted to look like a card in a card deck. She blinked, confused by his livery.

"I said, who are you?" The guard repeated. Alice opened her mouth, and then closed it. She couldn't think of a good excuse or lie to get out of this. The guard nodded. "Trespassing, eh? On the Queen's property? We'll see about that." The man grabbed her by the arm, nearly yanking it out of his socket as he began to drag her further into the maze. Alice cried out and fought back, but the guard only shook his head.

"It's no use, love. Orders of the Queen – no one is allowed inside her gardens without her permission. I'd love to let you go, but she has a way of finding out about these things." The guard lowered his voice conspiratorially. "They say she talks to mirrors."

Alice continued to struggle. "Let me go!" She yelled.

The guard sighed as if he sympathized with her plight, but kept going. Alice fought, kicking and shouting and struggling the entire way through the maze and the rose gardens (though what all those guards were doing painting the white roses red, she'd never know…) up the castle steps and into the throne room.

Alice was forced to her knees as the red velvet curtains parted and a veiled woman, seated upon a throne, rose to look at her. Everything that the queen wore was red – even the veil that covered her face in layers upon layers of gauze, making it impossible to see her. There was a long moment of silence.

"Who is this?" The Queen of Hearts asked. Her voice was strangely familiar to Alice.

"I found her trespassing in the maze, your Highness." The guard replied.

"Hmm…" The Queen approached Alice slowly. "You look rather familiar…" She mused.

"And you sound rather familiar." Alice shot back.

The Queen slapped her, making her head snap back so violently that she could hear her spine crack. Her eyes watered and her head spun, her cheek stinging like mad.

"I will not tolerate such impudence!" The Queen snapped. She rose slowly. "For that, I should lop off your head. But since I'm in a generous mood, I shall consult with my dear friend first."

The Queen moved away, to a tall mirror standing by the throne. She carefully removed the red cloth covering it, gazing at the mirror as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Regina? Are you there?" The Queen asked tentatively.

To Alice's shock, the mirror actually answered. The image of none other than Queen Regina swam into view. She looked rather impatient. "What is it, Louise?" She asked.

"I found this girl – or, rather, one of my men found her – trespassing on my property. Shall I take off her head? She's been rather rude, but I know that you've been arguing temperance…"

Regina turned and looked straight at Alice. She felt a chill go down her spine. She knew that Regina recognized her. Why, Regina had been there when Francis was born! And what was more, Regina knew her as Jefferson's wife.

"I'm not sure, Louise… perhaps you should lift your veil, get a closer look at her?" Regina suggested.

Something was coming. That voice, so familiar, tugged at Alice, and she could tell by the look in Regina's eyes, that knowing smirk, that something was about to happen.

It was still a shock.

The Queen of Hearts lifted her veil, exposing her face as she looked down at Alice. Alice gasped, her blood running cold. The face that stared back at her was very much like her own – slightly dark blonde hair, a wide face, dark lips… the Queen's hair was curled up into two curls, so that her entire face looked rather like a heart. It was a face that Alice had known and loved all of her young life; it was the face of someone who was supposed to be dead for years.

"Mother?"

The Queen stared at her, uncomprehending. "Who?" She asked.

"Mother!" Alice repeated, more forcefully. "It's me! It's Alice, your daughter!"

"I don't have a daughter." The Queen snapped. "What are you, an imposter? Trying to fool me?"

"What's wrong with her?" Alice turned to Regina, demanding an answer. "What did you do to her?"

"I never did anything. She's been like this from birth." Regina smiled, sickly sweet, taking pleasure at the uncomprehending shock on Alice's face. "Oh, you didn't know? Of course you didn't. Nobody did but me. I sensed it within her, and when your little sister was born I saw my chance. I faked her death and stole her away, back to Wonderland."

"I… I don't understand…" Alice murmured.

Regina sighed. "Must I explain everything all the time to you people? Honestly, I feel like all I do is talk about the back-stories of all my victims. Who cares about them?" She huffed. "Fine.

"The citizens of Wonderland are only capable of producing one child. Whenever there's more, such as twins, for example, they're quite simple-minded. You should see Tweedledee and Tweedledum – you'd know what I was talking about."

"Sarah." Alice said. "She can't have a child. I could only have one."

"It's the Wonderland blood in you. That's why your mother's pregnancies were so very dangerous, why she had to always lie down. She should have been incapable of producing two more, but your father's blood helped, I suppose. She truly would have died with Francis if I hadn't aided her with my magic.

"Anyhow, the rulers of Wonderland, of the Heart bloodline, had a child. Lovely girl – named her Carol. But little Carol was no ordinary girl. Blame it on royals inbreeding, or Wonderland people just being generally on the side of crazy."

Carold – or Louise – the Queen of Hearts, whoever she was, gave Regina an offended look. Regina smiled apologetically before turning back to Alice.

"There are actually two ladies standing here before you, dear. And don't give me that look – as I said, I don't have anything to do with this. This is all natural. Well… not natural, but you get my meaning. There's Carol, your sweet, innocent little mother who wouldn't hurt a fly… and then there's Louise. Louise likes red, she likes violence, and she likes removing people's heads from their shoulders.

"Her parents tried to help her but… one day, Louise took control and massacred her family and all of the royal court. But you knew that, didn't you? Jefferson told you. Not even he knew the truth; the royals had done quite a good job of hiding it from everyone. When Louise saw the horror she had done, Carol got free and begged Adam – Jefferson's father – to get her out of Wonderland. He did, and she stayed Carol for a long time. I'd like to say your father's love helped, but when they say 'true love conquers all', they're filling you with shit." Regina smiled again. Alice wanted to punch her until the bitch didn't even have the strength to move her lips anymore.

"But when I met your mother, I sensed something different in her. I discovered the truth. And when she was near death when Francis was being born, I made her a bargain. I would save Francis' life, but on one condition: She had to let Louise take over, and return as Queen of Wonderland. And if she ever became Carol again, let that part of her take control… I would kill her, and I'd find her children and kill them, too. So she agreed. And she's been my loyal friend here ever since."

Alice was trembling with rage. "How could you." She whispered. "You… you… my family were all friends to you! Jefferson is your _assistant_, he _trusts_ you…"

"Does he?" Regina asked. "Because the last I checked, he was quitting my service and telling me some choice words about where I could stick my evil schemes."

"He… he never…" Alice was dumbfounded. She could tell that Jefferson didn't enjoy his job, sure, but he'd never told her anything about evil schemes.

"Oh, but of course he wouldn't tell you about the kind of stuff I've made him get up to. You're _Alice_ – you're the most perfect human being in the universe; any universe." Regina's voice was dripping with disdain.

Alice ignored her. Of course Jefferson wouldn't tell her about this. He was all about protecting her, and she knew, she just knew that he'd had no choice. Instead, she focused her attention on the woman that somewhere, deep inside, was still her mother.

"Carol." Alice said. "Mother."

The Queen of Hearts just quirked her eyebrows. "You can't fool me, pretender. I have no children."

"Yes, you do!" Alice argued. "Mama, please! It's Alice! Don't you remember when I ran away into the woods and got lost, and you were so frightened for me? And you made me promise to never scare you like that again? And remember how you used to spend hours with Sarah, brushing her hair and singing with her? You had the most beautiful singing voice, Mama. I'm sure that you still do. And Francis… oh, little Franny… you should see her now. She's so big and tall and lovely! And she's so brave, so very brave. You would be so proud of her. I know that you would."

Alice tried to crawl closer to the Queen, but the guards held her back. "Please, Mama! Please! I know it's you, I know that you're in there…" She was crying now. "I've missed you so much, Mama. I love you, so, so much. We've all missed you, and we all love you, and we want you back. Please come back to me, Mama. Please come back." Alice could hardly believe how broken down she was becoming. She was sobbing earnestly, crying as she hadn't cried since the night when Grace was born (and even then, it had been tears of joy, not sadness).

"Alice?"

The Queen bent down, her face soft and full of concern and surprise. "Alice? Sweetie?"

"Mother?" Alice asked tentatively.

"Oh, Alice." Carol, for it was truly Carol now, swept Alice into her arms. The guards, surprised, released Alice, and she clung to her mother with all of her might.

"Mother." Alice sobbed.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. Oh, my dear heart, how I missed you. I've missed you all so much…"

"I'm not mad, Mama. I don't blame you, she made you, I understand…" Alice continued to sob as her mother soothed her, rubbing her back.

"Alice!"

They all turned. Jefferson was sprinting up to the palace, his eyes wide with fear. Alice stood. "It's all right, Jefferson! It's all right now!"

How he'd avoided (or outrun) the guards, she didn't know, but as soon as he swept her into his arms she didn't care. He crushed her against him, murmuring ardent apologies in her ear.

"Is this your husband?" Carol asked. Alice pulled back and turned to her mother, smiling.

"Yes. Mother, this is Jefferson. Jefferson, this is my mother, Carol."

Carol smiled and stepped forward, but before she could speak, Regina cut in.

"I'm so sorry to intrude upon this lovely reunion, but Carol… we did have a bargain."

Carol froze and turned to Regina. "And just what are you going to do through a mirror?" She demanded coldly. "You made me your lackey here for years, but that time is over."

Regina sighed melodramatically. "You people really underestimate the levels I'll sink to, don't you?" She jerked her head at the guards. "Seize them."

Carol frowned. "What? You honestly expect them to–"

The guards in the room all surged forward, grabbing Alice, Carol and Jefferson and restraining them.

"What's that phrase you love so much? Or, rather, that Louise loves?" Regina pretended to think for a moment. "Oh, I remember!" She pointed at Alice. "Off with her head."

"No!" Jefferson shouted. He struggled against the men holding him. "No! Regina, don't, I'll do anything you ask, just please!"

"This doesn't concern you, Jefferson." Regina snapped. "Alice's mother and I had a deal, and she broke it. Now her child has to die."

"Regina!" Carol shouted. "I'll continue to run Wonderland for you, I swear! Let my child go, please!"

"It's okay, Mother." Alice insisted. The guards forced her to her knees, but she remained calm. "You can return; Jefferson will take you home. You can see Father, and Sarah and her husband, and Francis…"

"I am _not_ letting you die!" Jefferson continued to shout, his struggles becoming more and more frantic and violent.

An executioner, wearing red instead of black, approached with the biggest axe that Alice had ever seen.

"No!" Carol screamed. "I'll become Louise again, I'll let her take over, I swear!"

"Too late now, darling." Regina scolded. "Be grateful I'm not going after the other two."

"Alice!" Jefferson screamed. "Alice!"

Alice smiled at him gently. "It's okay, Jefferson." She whispered. "Look after Grace."

The executioner swung the axe.

"I love you." Alice whispered.

"No, Alice, no!" Jefferson screamed.

The cut was clean, taking off the head in one blow. Carol screamed, sinking to the floor. "My child, my baby, Alice, dear heart Alice…"

Jefferson couldn't even speak. He just stared, tears standing in his eyes, at the head of his wife.

Regina clucked her tongue. "Consider this a warning, my dear. Either you let Louisa take control – _now _– or your other two children get it. And as for you," Regina turned to Jefferson. "You can go. Consider this your price for leaving my service."

The guards released both Carol and Jefferson. Carol lay on the floor, sobbing helplessly, while Jefferson crawled over to Alice's body. He reached out to touch it, but the axe swung again, missing his hand by a bare centimeter.

"Don't touch her." Regina ordered sharply.

Jefferson's glare was so full of hatred that it was a shock the mirror didn't crack.

"Carol?" Regina said expectantly.

Carol's sobs quieted. "Jefferson." She whispered. "Alice mentioned someone named Grace. Is she your child?"

Jefferson nodded brokenly. "Yes." He swallowed. "Yes, she's our daughter."

"Take care of her. And take care of Francis. Sarah… she's a good girl but she's not the mothering type. Don't tell her that I said that." Carol smiled, but it was bittersweet. "Take care of them." Her eyelids fluttered a little, her fists clenching and unclenching.

"Carol?" Jefferson asked. He swallowed. "My Lady?"

"That's 'your Highness' to you." Louise looked up, her faced cold and her eyes gleaming with an even greater madness then Regina's. Instead of just hatred, there was sheer madness. Louise got to her feet and looked down at Alice's body. "Oh! Did I miss a beheading? How disappointing…" She pouted.

"I suggest you go now, Jefferson." Regina said conversationally. "She's going to want to watch another beheading to make up for the one that she missed…"

"You get out of here!" Louse shouted.

Both Jefferson and Regina stared. "What?" Regina demanded.

"If you _ever _show your face here again, either of you, I will behead the both of you!" Louise screamed.

Jefferson realized the truth. Carol was in there, somewhere, and she must have somehow influenced the darker half of her to hate Regina. Jefferson stood slowly, pulling out his hat. "I'll look after Francis." He told Louise. "I promise."

She looked at him strangely but didn't fly into a rage, which he took as a good sign. Hopefully, somewhere deep inside, Carol could hear him.

Jefferson spun the hat and jumped inside.

When his cottage was built, and everything decorated, he hid the hat. He was never going to use it again. It had cost him Alice. It had cost him everything.

::::::::::::::::::::

Francis approached the edge of Rabbit's Hollow. It had taken her a bit to find it, with only Alice's stories to go on, but she'd managed.

She started down the slope when a rumbling sound filled the air. Francis turned, frowning. Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw.

A dark, crackling cloud, black as night but lit up by deep purple lightning - purple, the color of magic - was rolling over the land, covering everything. Francis would have screamed in frustration, but she was so in shock that she couldn't move. She was too late.

The curse had come.

**You all knew it wasn't going to end happily, but I still feel a little bad. Just a little. Oh, hey, did anyone figure out why I gave the Alice's aunt and mother those names? Bonus points if you did, you clever readers! And please, tell me true – was that twist a little too unrealistic? It came to me when I was thinking about the whole duality thing, you know, red/white, et al. If it was unbelievable or if you liked it, please let me know!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And now for something a little more lighthearted! Well, not lighthearted, but certainly fluffier than the last chapter. Again, sorry about that. Oh, and one last thing? I'm not finished with the Queen of Hearts yet.**

**Quick note – I wrote this in the middle of night and kept falling asleep while doing so; in other words, sorry if it's a little off-kilter.**

Belle watched as the light purple clouds, so thick it was almost a liquid, rolled over the edge of the well and across the land. She gripped Rum's hand fiercely. _Rum…_ that was her nickname for him. She'd never said it out loud, but she'd always thought it in her head. It felt so good, so right, to have her memories back. She'd been in that dark, cold room for as long as she could remember, and for no reason at all. But now she knew it had been for eighteen years, and she'd been in there because it was the closest thing to Queen Regina's dungeons that the evil queen could come up with on short notice.

As the meaning of Rum's words sank in, Belle turned to him. "Rumpelstiltskin?" She asked.

"Yes?" He looked at her like she was the answer to the universe. Belle swallowed hard.

"Can I… can I kiss you?" She decided that asking permission was the best thing to do, considering what'd happened last time.

He looked shocked, but not in a bad way. "Of… of course." He said.

Belle brought her free hand up to grip at his coat, leaning her head in. Rumpelstiltskin responded by wrapping his arm around her waist, keeping a firm grip on her hand still, rubbing little circles with his thumb. This kiss, Belle decided, was much better than the first one. Rum was actually _responding_, for one thing, and for another, he was very, very good at this. What started out as a simple, warm touch of the lips had morphed quite naturally into a deep tongue massage, with a touch of frenzy. Belle gave a little moan, pushing herself against him. This was what she'd been thinking about in those long nights, both with Regina and in the Storybrooke asylum – although with the latter, the man had always been nameless, his face a blur. Now it was real, and so comforting…

Rumpelstiltskin pulled back, but kept his arm wrapped around her, his face alight with love and just a little confusion. It was adorable. "May I ask what that was for?" He said.

Belle shrugged. "I wanted to do it while I still could." She said quietly. "You said that this," She gestured around at the ever-growing clouds, "Is magic. And once you're magical again… I can't… or you'll…" She trailed off, unsure.

Rum dropped her hand, cupping her cheek gently. "Belle," He said quietly. "The only reason I was angry was because my magic is the only thing protecting us from her."

She knew it was his form of an apology, and she accepted it as such. "I know." She smiled. "But I still wanted to do that."

The magic was swirling around them now. "Will this… will this take us home?" She asked.

"Not exactly." Rumpelstiltskin said. "Unfortunately, I don't yet know how to do that." He looked around at the cloud overtaking them. "Hold onto me." He whispered.

Belle obediently wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. Rumpelstiltskin held her tightly, his lips pressed into her hair. Belle closed her eyes. She began to feel rather dizzy, and if she breathed too deeply, she became lightheaded. The entire world seemed to be trembling, and she could have sworn that the earth spun just a little faster. She wasn't sure how long it lasted, but it felt like just a few minutes before the air was clean and easy to breathe again, and the world became still. Absolutely still.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, trying to see as much as possible while keeping herself safely ensconced in Rum's embrace.

"It's okay, Belle." He stepped back, just a tiny bit, but kept his arms around her waist. Belle reveled in it, marveling in the fact that he was comfortable enough to do that with her. "You can look around."

He didn't… he hadn't…

"You look the same." She whispered.

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at himself. "I haven't changed, have I? I was wondering if that would happen… I suppose that, in this world, it isn't allowed. Or something. Earth is quite annoyingly erratic when it comes to magic. You can't depend upon it at all."

Belle smiled, her hand snaking up around the back of his neck to play with the hair on the back of his neck. "I'm sure that you'll figure it out." She assured him.

He looked around. "We should head back – the others will be remembering, and most likely pounding down Regina's door. Which reminds me… what did she do to you?" He turned back to Belle, his face tight and his eyes full of storms the way they always were when he was angry.

Of course, Belle had made a point to never let his anger get to her, and she'd pretended it so often that it had become true. He didn't scare her, and besides, she knew his anger wasn't directed at her.

"She captured me almost immediately after I left the castle." She explained. "I was kept in her dungeons until the curse hit and then I was kept in the underground asylum at the hospital."

"Underground… that bitch." Rumpelstiltskin swore.

"Rum!" Belle admonished. "What she did was horrible but when she went to gloat over me she let slip a few things that showed me what a tragedy her life has been. I will not have–"

"What did you call me?" Rumpelstiltskin interrupted her.

Belle's vocal chords promptly ceased to work. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she managed to get out anything other than air. "I… well, you… it just…" She paused, cleared her throat, swallowed, and tried again. "I started calling you that, Rum, in my head. As an… as a nickname, I suppose. It made me feel close to you, even if I couldn't say it out loud."

He chuckled, but Belle could tell that he was laughing in affection. "I like it." He assured her quietly.

Belle smiled, pleased beyond measure, and made a note to only call him that in private. She knew that Rumpelstiltskin needed authority and needed (and, let's be frank, loved) power, and calling him a pet name in front of his enemies (which, again being honest, was everyone) wouldn't help his case.

"Come." He said, finally letting go of her. He held out his hand for her to take. "I'll take you back to my house and we can get you cleaned up."

She took his hand, smiling, and allowed him to lead her back through the forest and into Storybrooke.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Other than the dozen or so people standing randomly around looking completely dazed, most of the citizens of Storybrooke were gathered in the town hall, apparently debating about what to do about the former Madam Mayor. They'd already captured her, it seemed.

They were therefore un-accosted as Rumpelstiltskin led her through the quiet streets. His house was one of the ones at the far end of the neighborhood – the rich ones. Regina had a house like that, only it was at the opposite end of the street. They had wanted to keep a good distance from one another, even before Rumpelstiltskin remembered who he was.

"It's lovely." Belle breathed, taking in the interior design once Rum led her in. The design and layout were similar to his castle, including a massive cabinet filled with lovely china knickknacks.

"I know that it's not like my old place, but…" He carefully avoided using the word 'castle'.

Belle turned back to him, smiling. "Oh, no! I love it." She looked around. "I had no idea that you had a house; the man who sprung me out just seemed to assume that you lived in your store."

"It's a common misconception." Rumpelstiltskin admitted. He smiled as he took in her joy. "Why don't you take a bath and get cleaned up while I make some tea?"

"You? Making the tea?" Belle's grin was positively impish. "I had no idea that you even knew how."

"Well, I managed to drink it just fine before you came along." He replied. He didn't mention how he managed after she'd left. "The bathroom is just upstairs to the right."

"Thank you." Belle said, smiling at him as she tripped up the stairs. He watched her carefully as she went. He loved that smile of hers – the thin, Cupid's bow mouth, her warm eyes twinkling and her entire face glowing. He'd been convinced that he would never see that face again, and now all that he wanted to do was stare at her for ages.

He listened to the sound of the water running upstairs as he fixed the tea. He automatically grabbed the chipped cup to sip from, not even realizing that he had picked it until he sat down with Belle at the table in the dining room.

"Smaller house, and yet you still have a massive table that you never use half of." Belle said, running her hand over the mahogany.

"Old habits, you know." Rumpelstiltskin reminded her. He took a sip of tea. Belle's eyes widened as she watched him.

"Is that…?" She trailed off, pointing at the cup.

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at the cup. "Oh. Um, yes, actually. It managed to make the trip through the curse. Once I remembered who I was and I saw it in my store, I kept it in the safe there. But it was stolen, so I brought it back here and started using it for my tea every day."

Belle blushed. "How did you remember?" She asked.

"Well, true love's kiss would have made anyone of us remember, although only Emma receiving or giving true love's kiss would break the curse for everyone. She had to be prepared for it, though – in the correct state of mind. If the kiss comes before you're ready to receive it, then it won't work. Unless you're asleep, and then it's all up to the other person. But anyway, before all of this, Snow and her Prince Charming put me in the dungeons. They came down to ask me how to break the curse, and I told them all about how it would be their dear little child and all… in payment for my information, I asked for the child's name. Names have immense power, Belle. Yours, for example, means 'beauty'. And look at how that turned out."

Belle's blush, which had faded as she listened to him, returned full force.

"In any case, until Emma came to Storybrooke, I was as ignorant of the truth as anyone else. But once she told me her name, I remembered everything. Including losing you."

He took her hand. Belle squeezed it reassuringly. "What happened to you?" He asked.

Belle's smile faded. "As I said, Regina got to me almost immediately after I left you. I never even reached my father's. I was put into her dungeons, and there I stayed. When the curse came, I ended up in the asylum. It's hidden, underneath the hospital. There were a couple other people down there, but it was mainly just me. We got someone new a few weeks ago, but I never saw any of their faces. Regina would visit sometimes, but unlike before she never said a word. Probably didn't want to give anything away by accident.

"I would have… dreams; a lot of them. Dreams about things that I were certain had never happened, but felt so real… dreams about a man whose face I couldn't see and name I couldn't remember, but whom I loved... I knew that if I could find him, I would be safe. I assumed those dreams were why I was in the ward." Belle smiled again, but her eyes were soft and sad with remembered loneliness. "When I saw you, even though I didn't know who you were, I felt like I'd seen you before. Right before the curse it I realized that you were the man in my dreams. And then, the minute I realized that, there was this breeze – it must have been the curse – and I remembered everything."

She bowed her head, trying not to let him see the single tear sliding down her cheek. He did anyway, leaning forward and wiping it away with his thumb, caressing her cheek softly. "I thought I'd lost you to my rashness and my angry words, and then there you were, taking care of me, promising to protect me. It was… it was overwhelming. I've never been so happy in my entire life." She confided in a whisper.

Rumpelstiltskin stood up, as did she, and he pulled her in close, holding her gently. "I'll always protect you." He promised her. "And she will pay for doing those things to you."

"Please don't bother about her, please, Rum." Belle begged. "I want…" She swallowed. "We've been given a second chance, and I don't want to waste it."

"Of course." He complied. He'd spent too long being a stubborn fool, too long fighting both her and his own desires. "You come first." She always would from now on, he promised himself.

"Thank you." Belle whispered, brushing her lips over his neck. Rumpelstiltskin repressed a shiver that did not go unnoticed.

"Would you mind giving me a tour of the house? Particularly the bedroom?" She asked, her voice much lower than usual.

She felt him freeze under her touch. "We still have to get you some clean clothes…"

"I doubt anyone's running the stores right now, after the revelation they've all had." She replied. She gripped him a little harder, getting up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Their difference in height wasn't immense, but it was just enough to warrant such measures. "Take me to bed, Rum." She whispered.

She had dreamed of this, both before and after the curse. She'd imagined it while she was still with him at the castle, and in the dungeons had interspersed her dreams of rescue (or escape, she'd tried that often enough) with dreams of what would happen _after_ the rescue. And her dreams when his face was just a washed-out blur hadn't always been exactly innocent, either. Although, at the time the thought that she was having dream-sex with an unknown someone hadn't bothered her as much as it probably should have…

He continued to look down at her, unsure as to what to do. Do as he so desperately wanted and comply with her wishes? Or make her take a nap and recuperate and give her the rest she probably needed?

Belle settled the question for him by slipping out of his arms, taking his hand and leading him upstairs. Rumpelstiltskin followed her, half in a daze, his brain distractedly trying to process the fact that this was actually happening, that Belle was alive and well (relatively speaking) and _taking him upstairs to bed_…

Although she'd never been in the house before, if the upstairs layout was the same as the downstairs – that is, a miniature, simplified version of his castle – then Belle knew where the master suite would be. She'd cleaned every inch of that damn fortress and knew it like the back of her hand. She pushed open the door, pleased to see that she had been right.

She grinned when she saw that the linens and wallpaper were exactly the same as in his fairytale home. Rich reds and gold in the style of Louis XIV, only not so much… well, overstuffed decadence. Belle released his hand and went over to the bed, hopping right into the middle and bouncing to see if it was as fluffy as it looked.

Rumpelstiltskin watched her, smiling gently as she bounced, looking like she was on a big red-and-gold marshmallow. When she caught him, she grinned. "Well come on!" She said, waving him over. "It's your bed!"

He approached cautiously and sat down on the edge. While he did, indeed, own this house and utilize it, he'd spent the majority of his time in his shop. Before his memory had returned he'd spent vast amounts of time cataloguing and studying the objects. After he'd regained his memories, he'd then gone over everything again, rediscovering their true meaning and the stories they represented. He made a mental note to take Belle around and show them all to her, telling her the tales. She'd be fascinated. For instance, there was a horse bridle with the name _Fet_ on it that held a particularly unique little yarn…

Belle scooted over next to him, smiling. "You're letting your thoughts wander again." She noted. She was referring to his many sessions at the spinning wheel and the times when he'd stand at one of the immense windows (after she'd parted the curtains), his hands behind his back, staring out at the forest surrounding them.

"I was just thinking about all of the things I wanted to do with you." Rumpelstiltskin replied. He reached up and tucked an errant brunette curl behind her ear.

"What about the things you want to do _to_ me?" Belle asked.

"You are the most stubborn woman I've ever met, did you know that?"

Belle laughed. "I have to be, to put up with you." She replied.

Rumpelstiltskin sat up, grabbing Belle and pulling her down at the same time so that he could roll over, making himself the one who was on top, looking down at her giggling, impish face. That face, so sweet and gentle, could hold quite a brimful of mischief as well. He leaned down and kissed her. He meant it to be gentle, honestly, and that was how it started out, their tongues caressing and moving sensuously together. But it did not end that way. It ended with sucking and nipping and gasps, with a bit of sloppy tugging and openmouthed kisses along the lips and jaw thrown in for good measure. Belle, it turned out, made the most delicious little mewling noises, like a tiny kitten as she pawed at his clothing.

"You always had a habit of wearing far too many layers." She gasped out, arching her hips and pelvis against his in order to alternately lower her chest and get some space to unbutton his shirt. "But at least the leather was form-fitting!"

"Since when did you become such a minx?" He asked, his mouth trailing down her neck to her cleavage, stopping for a lovely detour at her shoulder along the way.

"Since… well, I while. I just removed the filter now." Belle assured him. She gasped as he finally succeeded in getting her bathrobe tie undone. Technically, it was his bathrobe, but she'd thrown it on after her bath and he really didn't care. He'd just have to be sure to by her the fluffiest robe in town once everything calmed down and the stores were open again (or maybe he could just conjure one up…).

Belle at last beat his clothing in the Hundred Layers War, giving a little crow of triumph that was traded in for a moan once Rumpelstiltskin's mouth got acquainted with her left nipple. She bucked her hips reflexively; letting out one of her patented mewls when she felt the hardness that her lover was sporting. They were down to pretty much nothing, and she could hardly wait anymore.

"Rum… please…" She begged. She'd wanted this through both imprisonment and memory loss, loved him in secret and with the knowledge of his cowardice and scorn, needed this when she was near him and far away, and she was a perfectly healthy hot-blooded young woman so it was not easy, damn it! Everything she had ever truly yearned for was there, right now, pinning her to the bed, and she didn't want to wait a second longer.

He never could deny her anything. The one time he had denied her, he'd spent the next 30 years (give or take a few months) regretting his actions. So he obliged her, giving in to what they both wanted. He entered her slowly, trying to gage her reaction based upon her facial expression. He didn't know if she'd done this before (he doubted it) and while it had been a long (very long) time for him, he didn't want to hurt her. He couldn't bear it if he hurt her in any way.

It was a bit… well, odd. Different from anything she'd ever felt before, and that included her own fingers. It was uncomfortable, on the edge of pain, at the beginning but then that softened as she relaxed. And when he started moving, it moved into the opposite end of the spectrum, into pleasure. That pleasure, a combination of the warm feeling of hot chocolate in the stomach and the thrill of being chased through the forest, was both luxuriant and primal. Belle quickly began to mewl again, that addicting little sound emerging from her throat with each thrust, until she became too loud and advanced to moaning, clutching at his back hard enough to leave crescent-shaped bruises on his shoulders and back. Looking up at him, it was clear that he was enjoying this as well. This was an indulgence he never could afford to partake in, and a raw, wild passion that he didn't dare give in to, all mixing together and making his head quite dizzy enough to fly off.

Neither could say exactly what their pace was – fast or slow, frantic or languid – but it was deep, and hard, and steady, and it worked for them. It got them where they needed to be, which was soaking up a realm of pleasure, an all-out assault of warm feelings that their senses could hardly process without being overloaded. Scratch that – they were overloaded, overflowing with love and so much else, all mixing and congealing, soaking them in its power until they had no choice but to be swept away.

Belle didn't come to for a few solid minutes. When she did, emerging out of that red-gold liquid of sweet release, she found herself curled up in Rumpelstiltskin's arms as he ran a hand through her hair. He stared at her naturally curling locks, marveling at them like they were embroidered scarves of the finest lace and silk. Her hair might as well have been shot through with silver and gold and dropped jewels whenever she shook her head for the way he was looking at it.

"What is so fascinating?" She inquired, tilting her head to look at him properly.

"You." He replied quietly. "You're beautiful."

She blushed. "I'm nothing special." She refuted.

"On the contrary – you are the most exquisite, extraordinary, excellent person I have ever met." He informed her. He kissed her temple. "You're the only one capable of making this… I believe your father's term was 'beast', was it not? Into a man."

Her blush deepened, if that was possible. "I love you." She murmured.

"And I love you." He assured her. He gazed down at her. He'd buy her the world, if only he could. He'd buy her every world, however many there were, and hand them all to her on a golden platter. Inlaid with gemstones. And a silver spoon, just for the joke of it.

He daydreamed about all the things he could do for her – starting with buying her the most fashionable, luxurious, expensive wardrobe in the world – and only when he shifted to ask her a question did he realize that she had snuggled closer to him, inserting one leg in between his thighs and resting her head on his chest, and fallen into a sleep so deep, one could be forgiven for thinking that she was under a spell.

"I'll protect you." Rumpelstiltskin whispered. He adjusted them so that they were resting properly with their heads on the two-dozen or so pillows, and pulled the covers over them. "I promise you, Belle, that I won't lose you this time."

Her only response was to wrap an arm around him and murmur "Rum" in her sleep.

**Whew! Smut always wipes me out. Not like that, you perverts. It's always difficult to right it, as you're trying to be sexy and all but realistic at the same time. And when you're writing new characters, ones you haven't written in this kind of position before, it's especially nerve-wracking.**

**All right, my little confession is over. Moving on! Mad Swan stuff begins in the next chapter! Ooh, the chemistry between Emma and Jefferson… *shivers***


	7. Chapter 7

**Back to our lovely lady, Francis, and the beginning of Mad Swan! Woohoo! Never fear, the Huntsman – God rest his super sexy soul – will be mentioned, 'cause he deserves it.**

"Damn it! Fucking damn it!" Francis growled, viciously kicking a light pole in frustration. The light pole, in retaliation, gave her toe a surprisingly agonizing amount of pain.

"Language." Elaine said.

"Where _is_ he? He has to be in Storybrooke – everyone is in Storybrooke! We just saw the Chesire Cat, for crying out loud!" Francis said, gesturing wildly.

"Maybe he's with everyone in the courthouse prosecuting Regina?" Elaine suggested.

Francis kissed the girl on the lips, surprising her. "I knew there was a reason I loved you." She said, sprinting towards the courthouse.

Elaine shook her head, smiling fondly.

When Francis got into Storybrooke's town hall – also the courthouse – she expected to find a bunch of angry citizens watching Regina get read her rights. What she didn't expect was a bunch of scared, angry citizens threatening to lock up her brother-in-law.

She arrived just in time to see Jefferson launch himself at Regina, yelling things that nobody could quite make sense of (something about two faces and hearts and mothers), and trying to strangle/punch her. Regina seemed to be in a general state of shock, but drudged up enough emotion to smirk at her former assistant. Francis pushed her way through the crowd until she was in front, but Emma got to Jefferson first. She pulled him off of Regina by his shirt collar, unceremoniously shoving the evil queen to the floor. The savior and Jefferson stared at each other for a minute, their faces a whirl of emotions. Both seemed unable to select one emotion to project at the other.

Everyone else continued shouting.

"Shut up!" Emma yelled over the din. She still had Jefferson's shirt collar in her left fist from where she had yanked him off of Regina, who remained on the floor. It was difficult to tell whose glare was more full of hatred – Emma's as she looked at Regina, Jefferson's as he looked at Regina, the citizens as they looked at Jefferson, or Regina as she did triple duty between Jefferson, Emma, and the citizens of Storybrooke.

"What the hell happened?" Francis asked.

"He's absolutely mad!" Someone yelled.

"We're all a little mad here." Francis shot back. She approached Jefferson, carefully laying a hand on his shoulder. "Hey… are you okay?"

Jefferson wrenched himself away from Emma's grip and stumbled backwards, turning his attention to Francis. "Hey, little sis." He whispered.

Emma apparently didn't hear him, because she launched into a weary speech. "Look; I get that you have a grudge against Regina. We all do. But if you pull a crazy stunt like that again–"

"Did you not _hear_ the things he was babbling?" Someone shouted.

"Shut up!" Francis and Emma yelled in tandem. They shot each other a look before Emma continued.

"You are gonna end up in jail along with her." Emma jerked her head at Regina. "Got it?"

"You don't understand…" Jefferson started. He stopped, frowned, and began murmuring to himself like he was trying to recall a sequence of events.

This was not good. This was not good at all. Sure, Jefferson had been permanently melancholy since Alice's death – gone were the jokes and lightheartedness of yesteryear – but he hadn't been _insane_. Francis snuck a look at Regina. Her glare of hatred was now one of sly triumph.

Francis stepped forward. "I'm really sorry about this, Emma. I'll take him back. He has to see Grace and everything… once he's with her, I'm sure he'll be better."

Emma frowned. "Fran, right?"

"Francis, actually." Francis corrected.

"Sorry." Emma apologized. "I hate to pry but what's your connection to him?"

"He's my brother." Francis paused. "In law."

Everybody stared.

"He's still insane! He needs to be locked up!" Somebody shouted.

Emma had a gleaming sword at her hip. Francis swooped down, grabbing it and pulling it from the scabbard. She held it out to the crowd. "The first person to take a step towards him dies." She threatened.

"Francis?" It was Snow, looking more than a little distraught at the turn of events. Although the mild-mannered teacher had recalled her feisty side, she still didn't agree with fighting if it could be avoided, especially among her allies.

Francis shook her head. "I'm sorry, but he's my brother. Anyone, and I mean _anyone_, who threatens him again gets it."

"Emma?" James asked. "Is she telling the truth?"

Francis remembered Emma's little 'super power' – one that might very well be a magical ability. Her parents didn't have a lick of magic in them, but certain people, those with a special destiny, sometimes did. And Emma Swan, savior of the Enchanted Forest and all of its inhabitants, certainly had a special destiny.

Emma looked at Francis, who swallowed hard. Emma spoke slowly, searching Francis' face. "If anybody tries to take Jefferson," She said, "What are you going to do?"

"I'll kill them." Francis responded. She held up the sword.

For one slow, pounding heartbeat, the room held its breath. Then…

"She's telling the truth." Emma announced. She turned to the room at large. "Let them through! And everyone leave them alone!"

"C'mon, brother." Francis whispered. Jefferson didn't hear her; he was far too busy staring at Emma. Francis thought he'd stared at someone else like that before… but she couldn't recall… "Come on, Jefferson." She repeated. "We have to see Grace."

That shook him out of his reverie. "How did you get here?" He asked, obediently following Francis through the crowd.

"I promised Grace that I'd find you." Francis responded. "And as you may recall, I always keep my promises."

She did not fail to notice how Emma watched Jefferson as he vanished into the crowd. The Sheriff's expression was one of confusion, worry, and curiosity. Even, perhaps, concern.

As soon as she'd seen her family reunited, Francis decided to pay a little visit to the town's savior. They had a few things to discuss.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Jefferson's face when he saw Grace made up for everything. Whatever Regina had done to him to drive him to the brink of madness, Grace reeled him back from the edge.

"Papa!" The girl shouted. She ran right into his outstretched arms, holding onto him tightly. "You're back!"

"I told you I would be." He said, his voice choked with tears. "My sweet Grace." He whispered, stroking her hair.

Francis smiled. "You can stay with Sarah and Marcus for now…"

Jefferson shook his head. "No need. My house is bigger."

"Your house?" Francis asked.

He nodded. "I'll show you."

Jefferson's house was, indeed, big. It sat on top of a hill, overlooking much of Storybrooke. He gave them a tour of the house, explaining his punishment during his 28 years here – how he alone could remember his past, and how he couldn't leave his house to do anything about it.

"Until Emma arrived, that is." He amended.

There was something in his voice… a kind of wonder, like there was something that he couldn't understand and yet that lack of understanding did not bother him so much as fascinate him.

Francis really had to talk with Emma now.

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Francis asked. Jefferson led Grace up to the room that he'd prepared for her. The knowledge that her parents were really her aunt and uncle had been absorbed rather well, considering they'd been kind of her parents for the months while Jefferson had been missing before the curse hit.

Jefferson watched as Grace scampered about the room, happily examining the books, and stuffed animals, and fluffy patchwork bedspread.

"I will be." He said finally.

"You aren't mad." Francis stated, as if saying it would make it so.

"I don't know." Jefferson replied. "Being in Wonderland when you're not supposed to… it does things to you. People there are all a little unbalanced; even me, I guess. It just didn't come out until I was there against my will."

"Grace is here now, though. You're free. You're not trapped – not in Wonderland, not in your house, not anywhere." Francis argued.

Jefferson shook his head. He remembered the hot, dizzying madness, and the cold hatred that had consumed him as he set about undermining Regina. He idly wondered if Belle had gotten to Rumpelstiltskin.

"Only time will tell if I'm okay." He finally said. "I might be perfectly fine, just under stress or something… or it might have set something off inside of me."

"Anyone would have attacked Regina. She's fucked over everyone here." Francis said. She paused. "Except for me."

Jefferson almost laughed. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." He said cryptically. "But no matter what she did to anyone else, I was the one who went for her. And frankly… from what I recall, I wasn't thinking in a straight line."

That didn't exactly make sense, but Francis let it slide. "You are going to be okay." She insisted. "You're my brother, remember? I always take care of my own. We're going to get through this."

Jefferson pulled her in for a hug. It usually reassured her, but now it felt like he was just trying to make her feel better in lieu of a true solution. "Go find Elaine." He said. "She's got to be missing you."

He was trying to get rid of her. Francis nodded into his chest, tightening her grip on him for just a moment. "I will, but only if you promise that you're okay."

Jefferson chuckled. "Always so fierce. I'm okay, Franny; and if I'm not now, then I will be soon. I promise."

"All right." There wasn't much more that she could ask of him. Francis pulled back, smiling encouragingly.

Jefferson watched her as she made her way down the dark street, nighttime having fallen about an hour ago. Grace tugged at his shirtsleeve. He looked down, and she held up a book for him.

"Will you read to me?" She asked.

"Of course, sweetheart." He said. He scooped her up, settling her into his lap and kissing her forehead. With his daughter back with him, he was certain that things would get better. He ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his skull, the sense that there was unfinished business for him to attend to.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Mary Margaret – no, wait, Snow White – no, wait her _mother_ – wasn't home. She was out with David… make that James… make that her father… oh, fuck this. Her parents needed some quality time so Emma was stuck at home.

With a growl of frustration, Emma collapsed onto the sofa with a chilled beer. Henry was happily asleep in her bed upstairs, only having agreed to go to bed about half an hour ago. The kid was so excited about the curse being broken that he was like a bundle of live wires, sparking and hot and buzzing with energy.

All that Emma wanted to do was get pleasantly drunk, and then sleep. Preferably for days. This whole 'savior' thing meant that everyone was looking to her for answers. At least her parents and August had helped. Apparently, the purple cloud had been the return of magic, and since it was magic that kept him a boy (or, rather, man) and not a wooden puppet, the return of it had restored him to life. While ambiguous and annoying, that guy was, in the end, a godsend. He knew how to handle those folks, even if he had no desire to be a leader. Emma felt almost like he was a brotherly figure. Although, brotherly figures were not usually so determined to keep her in the dark about everything until the last fucking minute.

She decided to blame it on the alcohol when she didn't hear Francis sneak in. The girl was just… there, suddenly, taking the beer bottle out of Emma's hand and setting it on the kitchen counter, out of reach unless Emma stood up and walked over which she was way too tired to do. Francis walked back over and stood directly in front of the Sheriff, her face not hostile but clearly no-nonsense.

"You lied."

"What?" Emma said, her eyes crinkling a little in confusion.

"You lied about me lying." Francis explained. "I couldn't kill anybody – especially not innocent people, half of whom are my friends! I swore to your parents that I would serve them! The fact that they believed I was capable of killing any of them was a little insulting, but seriously, I can't! I can't do it! And you _knew_ that, not because you knew me, but because you knew I was lying. But you covered for me. You protected me and said that I was telling the truth. And I want to know why."

"Look," Emma said, rubbing her face. "You're a good kid. I didn't want you to get in trouble."

"And going against my queen and king isn't going to get me into trouble." Francis said sarcastically. "You don't owe me anything, Emma Swan. You barely even know me. I'm just the teenage rebel lesbian who makes the old ladies outraged. So why did you do it?"

Emma shook her head, not answering. Francis sat down on the coffee table. "Or was it not about me?" She asked.

Emma still didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"It wasn't for me. You didn't lie for me, you lied for him." Francis said. "There's something going on between you two, isn't there?"

Emma snorted. "If you consider a kidnapping to be 'something going on', then yes." She said.

"A kidnapping?" Francis frowned. "Did he try to grab Grace?"

"What? No! He wouldn't do anything to her, no matter how much he missed her." Emma said vehemently. "He's a good father, I'll give him that. It's the only thing we have in common – our kids."

"Then what's this about a kidnapping?" Francis demanded.

"He kidnapped Mary – Snow – and me so that I could make his hat work. He said that I had magic, that I could bring it back." Emma explained.

"Jefferson's father died before he taught him how to make a hat." Francis said softly. "He had to use his father's the whole time."

"Oh." Emma said. "Sorry to hear that."

Francis shrugged. "That doesn't explain why you lied to protect him." She pointed out.

"I just did, okay?" Emma snapped, losing patience. "If you're looking for a conspiracy theory or something, you've come to the wrong place. I don't know what the hell's going on around here half the time, and everybody is looking to me to solve all of their problems, and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to cut someone a break so you can stop interrogating me, okay?"

Francis stood up. "Here's your sword." She said, handing Emma back the weapon. "It used to be James', you know."

"Yeah, I heard." Emma muttered.

Francis turned to go, but stopped halfway across the room. "You know, the way Jefferson looked at you… he's only looked at one other person like that."

"Like what?" Emma asked.

"Like you held all the answers. Like you _were_ the answer." Francis said.

Emma looked down at her hands and laughed humorlessly. "And who was that?" She asked, looking back up.

Francis was gone.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Now that her memories were back, Elaine wanted nothing to do with her father. So they were in Francis' room at Sarah and Marcus', lying curled up in bed. Elaine was fast asleep, her back pressed against Francis' chest, her hands clutching at her wife's arms.

They were married. Francis wasn't sure what to think about that. On one hand it made her deliriously happy, but on the other hand, she was seventeen. Not exactly the age of consent here on Earth.

But that was at the back of her mind that night. What kept Francis awake didn't have anything to do with her or the girl in her arms. It was Jefferson and Emma.

"Alice." Francis whispered her sister's name into the night, as if that might take this puzzle and turn it into a solution.

Alice was the only person that Jefferson had ever looked at like that before. The completed puzzle, the solution to the riddle, the answer to the universe… that was Alice. And since her death, Francis had never seen such a look of completion on her brother-in-law's face.

Until now.

**Heh heh… Emma has a soft spot! Emma has a soft spot! (That was supposed to be read in that annoying singsong voice bullying children use.) Her storyline with Jefferson will not be one chapter of fluffy declarations and smut; I was far too easy on our resident trickster and his beauty. Nope, our hatter and reluctant crusader have a slightly bumpier road ahead of them. Stay tuned!**


	8. Chapter 8

**More Mad Swan… 'cause that's the kick I'm on now…**

Whatever thoughts Francis may or may not have had concerning her brother and their new leader were pushed to the back of her mind as everyone focused on trying to return home. Unfortunately, the curse breaking had not sent them all back to the Enchanted Forest as they had hoped, but rather returned magic to the town. This meant that Regina had broken out of prison and was mounting an attack, Emma was struggling with magical abilities that she barely understood, never mind control, and Rumpelstiltskin was running around being manic and generally causing trouble in pursuit of his own agenda.

Storybrooke had pretty much been divided into two halves; Regina's half, and Emma's half. The barricade in the middle wasn't exactly a high point for the evolution of warfare, but it served its purpose. The headquarters for the good guys (for lack of a better term) was the police station. That was where the war cabinet was currently gathered.

Ruby (she'd liked the name, and decided to keep it) stood behind the chair where Grandma sat. Thanks to the return of magic, she transformed on schedule, and while there hadn't been a full moon yet everyone was keeping an eye on her. There weren't any red cloaks handy, unfortunately.

August stood with Gepetto at the opposite end of the room. Like Ruby, he liked his new name better than his former one and decided to keep it. Jiminy (he preferred his former name) was with them as well. Why he hadn't turned back into a cricket was anyone's guess. That included the Blue Fairy, also known as the Mother Superior, who was in attendance as well. Apparently all the fairies of the Enchanted Forest had, in this world, been either nuns or novices. They all stood with their leader except for two. Tinkerbell was with Peter, formerly known as Barry. He and Francis still did not get along. Nova was currently sitting in Grumpy's lap, her usually overly cheerful face puckered with concern. The other dwarves were nearby, all standing stoically.

Francis was with Elaine and Jefferson. The former was sitting on the floor, her back resting against Francis' legs as she stood, while the latter was next to Francis and currently staring at Emma. It appeared to be his new favorite pastime – giving her his patented so-intense-it-could-see-into-your-soul stare. Emma wasn't doing a very good job of ignoring him.

"Are you _certain_ that it's Hook?" She asked.

"For the hundredth time, yes!" Mulan replied, crossing her arms. Francis grinned. The two girls hadn't known one another before all of this, but they'd gotten on famously once they had met. Mulan was just as fierce as Francis, and twice as stubborn.

"Oh, my! Is that dissention among the ranks I hear?" Said an unmistakably smooth voice. It hovered just on the edge of impish.

Snow, who had been dozing with her head on James' shoulder, shot awake at once. Everyone turned, swords drawn. (Getting those had been an interesting adventure…)

Rumpelstiltskin looked at all of them as if he were shocked they weren't jumping all over him with hugs. "Now, now, dearies, is that any way to greet an ally?"

"You're an ally?" Francis asked. "I hadn't noticed."

It was universally acknowledged that she was the only one brave (or stupid) enough to give the Dark One lip.

"Oh for goodness' sakes." Said a voice that could really only be described as beautiful. A brunette strode into the room, putting her hand on Rumpelstiltskin's arm in a chastising manner. "How about you let me do the deal-making for once, hmm?" She suggested, giving him a smile that suggested things nobody really wanted to think about when it came to Rumpelstiltskin.

"Belle?" Snow asked. "I haven't seen you since I was…"

"Is there a person around here that you _don't_ know from childhood?" Emma grumbled.

"Me." Peter replied. Francis glared at him. He stuck out his tongue.

"Children…" Elaine rolled her eyes.

Emma looked over at Jefferson, as if looking for guidance. He blinked, as if surprised she'd acknowledged him, and then nodded slightly. Emma could deny it up one side and down the other but she had to admit to herself that out of everyone here (except for Henry), the one person who had never given her any bullshit was Jefferson. And that meant that something in her trusted him above everybody else. Even August, who was going out of his way to make himself helpful. Although, if the amount of time he'd been spending with Ruby lately was any indication…

"What do you want?" Emma said impatiently.

"To join your team." Belle said before her paramour could get a word in. "And to prove it, we've brought a peace offering." She drew out a red cloak and walked over to Ruby, holding it out.

"Is this…?" Ruby took the garment, gently caressing the fabric.

"We found it in the shop, along with several other useful items." Belle explained. "We'll share them all with you, if you accept our proposal."

"What's the proposal?" Emma said sternly.

Rumpelstiltskin took the reigns then. "That you allow us to enjoy the pleasure of your company. In exchange, you get my expertise and abilities."

Emma looked over at Jefferson. She had no idea how to handle this guy. Jefferson gave her a look that for some reason, she understood.

"What are you getting out of this?" Emma demanded.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at Belle. To everyone's surprise, he became serious, looking at her with such concern and… was that love?

"Regina is no friend of mine. She never has been." He said, his words grating and harsh. "She took something from me once, and I want my assets protected. For better or for worse, Miss Swan, you are the only one who seems to give her any real fear. For that, I will put my faith in your ragtag team and assist you."

Belle looked a little embarrassed as everything clicked into place.

"You want to protect her?" Emma sputtered. "What – why?" She grew suspicious. "She's not pregnant, is she?"

Across the room, Ella clutched her baby protectively.

Rumpelsiltskin looked like he might smite Emma for suggesting such a thing. "My reasons are none of your concern." He said quietly, his voice as smooth and menacing as a snake's.

Belle opened her mouth to say something, possibly to even refute his statement, but she saw the look on his face and closed it. She really didn't need to say anything, though. Everybody with a pair of eyes and half of a brain could guess what was going on. When Belle looped her arm through the dark wizard's, allowing him to keep her close by his side (literally), it was confirmed.

"All right, then." Emma said slowly, trying to adjust to this new information. "We greatly appreciate your help, and we'll take your offer."

Jefferson made a tiny noise in his throat, one that only Emma seemed to hear. She glanced at him. He looked pointedly at Red's cloak, which the young woman had donned and was happily rubbing between her fingers.

Emma turned back to Rumpelstiltskin. "I hate to be rude…" She trailed off as everyone stared at her. "Okay, so no, I don't mind being rude at all. Can we have access to your shop now? The sooner we can retrieve our personal items, the fewer weapons Regina can find to use against us, and the more weapons we might potentially gain."

"By all means." The imp gave Emma a half-bow. Belle whispered playfully in his ear about not being so theatrical. Half of the room wanted to be in Rumpelstiltskin's place while the other half felt a little queasy at the scene.

Within a few minutes, everybody was assembled in the pawnshop, looking through the hundreds of cabinets, desks, glass cases and shelves as they tried to find something – anything – that might belong to them. Gepetto's face when he found the puppets of his parents was nothing short of heartbreaking. Francis discovered Fet's bridle and harness. She'd left her horse tied to a tree to go into Rabbit's Hollow, and while she hoped he was free and happy back home, she feared he was dead. Finding this reminder of her dear friend, no matter how bittersweet, was almost as good as being home again.

"I'm sure that he's roaming the forest and quite wild by now." Elaine reassured her, coming up from behind Francis and slipping her arms around her waist. She rested her chin on her wife's shoulder.

"It's the not knowing that I hate." Francis whispered. She clutched the instruments tightly, clearing her throat. "Well, no use dwelling on it. Let's help the others out."

"Guess what I found, first." Elaine said, smiling. Francis turned so that they were facing one another.

"What." She said. "There, I guessed it!"

Elaine rolled her eyes. "The curse certainly didn't change your abysmal sense of humor. _Look_ at me."

Francis ran her eyes over Elaine's body. When she got to her upper chest, she froze. Gently, she reached out and touched the delicate silver design. It was abstract, but supposed to mean love and devotion. It hung from the thinnest, finest of silver chains.

"You found it." Francis whispered.

The necklace had been her wedding gift to Elaine. The girl nodded, smiling ecstatically. "Yes." She nodded fervently. "And I found yours, too." She held up the silver chain with the black opal dangling from it. Francis ducked her head, allowing Elaine to slip it over her. The opal rested just below her collarbone.

"Love you too much." Francis whispered.

Elaine never could understand why she said that, but she loved her back and trusted in Francis' love for her, so she hugged her girl knight.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Emma wandered through the back room. It was dusty and dark, but filled with odds and ends. She suspected there was at least one object for every citizen of Storybrooke that she was now realizing, despite being a small town, had a startlingly large population.

"Need any help?"

She nearly jumped a mile. A week or two ago, she would have. But she was growing used to Jefferson's sudden appearances, particularly when she was alone. She even enjoyed them to a certain degree. She looked back at him.

He stood there, hands behind his back, his eyes concentrated solely on her. She gave a tentative smile.

"No, thanks. I'm okay."

"You're not looking for anything?" He asked, running a finger along the edge of a shelf.

"Not for me. If something catches my eye, then sure, but I doubt there's anything in here that's mine." Emma explained.

"I beg to differ." Jefferson said.

"I came over when I was a day old, Jefferson, if that. What could possibly belong to me in here?" Emma asked.

"That." Jefferson said, nodding his head over to the corner.

Emma turned, but couldn't see what he was talking about. Jefferson stepped forward, gently taking her by the elbow and guiding her. It reminded her of when he forcibly moved her about his house when he'd kidnapped her, only this wasn't at all like that. His touch was gentle and careful, and Emma felt like she'd let him guide her anywhere.

Turned out that "anywhere" was right in front of a baby bassinet. It was one of the more elaborate ones that Emma had seen, and she'd seen her fair share of baby beds when she'd been considering keeping Henry. Despite the obvious wealth of whoever commissioned it, it was tasteful, the work of a true craftsman. It was completely made of wood, with a tiny carved family at the head. It showed a woman with long dark hair, a blonde-haired man, and a tiny blonde girl. Carved on top was a name:

Emma.

"It's… it's mine." Emma was shocked.

"I'm guessing Gepetto carved this." Jefferson said. His voice was as quiet as when he'd whispered in her ear about other worlds, but this time it was comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"All this time I blamed them for leaving me." Emma whispered. "I was so angry, so bitter… but then I went and did the same thing with Henry, and I was torn. On one hand, I could understand now, but on the other hand, maybe if they'd stayed I wouldn't be so messed up. And now they're scrambling to make it up to me…" She gestured helplessly at the cradle.

"They love you." Jefferson promised her. "Trust me; they would have done anything to keep you."

Emma turned but found herself directly in front of Jefferson. She'd be shocked if there was an inch of space between them. The last time they'd been this close had been when she was his prisoner. Like then, she felt a weird stirring inside… well, it wasn't weird, it was familiar, but it wasn't something she was going to pay attention to. The last person she'd had that feeling with had died because she'd given into it, and the person before that… well, there was a reason Henry would never know the true story of his father.

No. Emma was not letting a starving libido get out of control. But her feet were frozen, keeping her there, barely able to breathe without touching him. Jefferson was staring at her, his eyes dark and haunted, his lips parted as if he had something that he desperately wanted to say, but couldn't. Slowly, as if in a trance, he lifted his hand up. He touched her cheek softly, running the back of one finger over the soft skin. Emma found herself closing her eyes.

"Emma! Come look at this!"

Henry's voice pierced whatever spell had fallen over them – it had to be a spell, that was all it was, all that it could possibly be – and Jefferson stepped back. A chorus of children's laughter and shouts of glee could be heard. The voices of Hansel, Gretel, and Grace joined in with Henry's.

"I should…" Emma gestured.

"Right." Jefferson nodded and stepped aside, allowing her to move past him and move into the main room. He looked down at the cradle for a long moment before turning and following her.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Emma rubbed her forehead and poured herself another glass of wine. She really didn't need it, but oh, did she need it.

"You okay?" Snow asked, sitting down.

Emma snorted. "Just… just thinking about things."

"What kind of things?" Snow grabbed an empty glass and held it out. Emma filled it wordlessly. Snow took a sip.

"You remember Graham?" Emma said with a heavy sigh.

"The old Sheriff? Yes." Snow took another sip of her wine.

"Well, I… he and I kind of… we, well… I think he was in love with me and we made out and were going to have sex but he died right in my arms. There. I said it." Emma breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten it all out.

Snow choked on her wine and began to have a coughing fit. "Why do you say that he was in love with you?"

"When we kissed… he said that he remembered. I didn't understand it at the time but I think it meant that he remembered his fairytale life." Emma explained. "But that could only happen through true love's kiss…" She paused. "Do both people have to feel it for it to work?"

"Yes." Snow nodded. Seeing the expression on her daughter's face, she quickly amended her statement. "But that doesn't mean that you can't have more than one true love! Think about it! People have true loves that die and then years later they find another! Or, or they have true love at the time, but it changes and they lose it and separate and find true love with someone else, or…"

Emma just stared at her mother. She'd discovered that was the best way to get her to stop talking because once Snow got started on something, it was difficult to get her to stop.

"So basically, he died because of me. Because he was remembering the truth, whatever that was for him, and so Regina killed him. How, I don't know, but it was she. I'm certain of it." Emma said. She took a way too large gulp of the wine.

"Regina… she feels, you know." Snow said quietly. "I know that it doesn't seem that way, but she's not heartless. I think she really cares for Henry, and anybody could see that she and Graham had a thing. I think it pained her to kill him."

Emma snorted. "Some consolation that is." She grumbled.

"But anyway why are you thinking about this now?" Snow asked. "It's been months since he died – not to sound heartless or anything but what brought this on?"

Emma mumbled something into her wine glass as she took a sip.

"What?" Snow asked.

"Jefferson brought it on, okay?" Emma snapped. She put her hand to her forehead again. "He's… and then… and I… we're…"

"Jefferson." Snow stated. "As in, the Mad Hatter."

"He doesn't like that term." Emma mumbled.

"As in, the person who kidnapped us?" Snow went on. "I think that's called Stockholm syndrome."

"But that was because he was desperate. And he's been nothing but helpful since; he's better with Henry than I am half of the time." Emma said.

"Are you saying," Snow said slowly. "That you are in love with him?"

"What? No! No, I'm just…" Emma groaned. "I need to get laid. That's the real issue here."

"Emma!" Snow set her wine glass on the counter harder than she meant to.

"What! A few weeks ago and you would've been scheming with me!" Emma protested.

"That was before I knew you were my daughter. You are to remain chaste and virginal and pure until I die! And then you'll wait a year out of respect and grief!" Snow insisted.

Emma groaned, rolling her eyes. "Moooooom…." She whined in a worrisomely perfect imitation of a teenager.

"Well, why Jefferson? Why not August?" Snow asked.

"First of all, gross; he's like my older brother or something. He's as annoying as one, anyway. Second of all, he was nothing but trouble for me so I would not reward him with sex even if I was interested which, again, I am not, because gross. Third of all, I'm pretty sure that he and Ruby have been knocking boots for the last couple of nights." Emma finished. She downed the remainder of her wine.

"Ruby?" Snow asked. "That girl…" She fumed. "She didn't tell me!"

"I doubt anyone's supposed to know." Emma muttered. "Refill?"

"Ugh, please." Snow held out her glass. "Why Jefferson?" She repeated once she'd taken a sip from her newly full glass.

"Hell if I know." Emma confessed.

"Well, he's sexy enough…" Snow mused. Emma gave her a look. "What?" Snow asked. "Just because I'm married doesn't mean that I don't have eyes." She stated with a wink.

"You did _not_ just say that." Emma groaned. "Look, okay, yes, he's sexy as hell but so what?"

"I think you like him." Snow pronounced. "And what's not to like? He's a great father, smart, helpful, he clearly likes you…"

"Um, where did my mother go? Because just a minute ago you were not only saying that liking him was the equivalent of Stockholm syndrome, but that I was to remain 'chaste and virginal' until your dying day."

"Plus a year." Snow corrected. "In all honesty… a relationship might be good for you. I just want you to be happy."

"Relationship? Who said anything about a relationship? I'm talking about the physical here. Releasing tension, that sort of thing. I am not about to start a relationship right now, not with all that's going on." Emma stated firmly.

Snow shrugged. "All right." She said. "Whatever you say. But I'm warning you – don't start anything you're not prepared for."

"What's to be prepared for?" Emma snorted. "I just need some good sex. And don't give me that scandalized virgin look. I'm sure that you and Dad did it a few good times before your actual wedding night."

"Maybe, maybe not." Snow blushed. "But what I'm trying to say isn't about one night stands or sex before marriage being right or wrong, Emma. What I'm saying is that once you have sex and have to see that person every day… you've never done that. You've done it and then moved on, and never had to see them again. But you'll have to deal with him every day afterwards, and it's going to either be awkward or evolve into something more. We're human; it's what we do. So unless you're ready for all of that, I'd stick with the vibrator."

"You weren't supposed to know about that." Emma mumbled around a mouthful of wine.

"I don't know where Ruby gets them and quite frankly I don't want to know, but I'm your mother. It's kind of my thing to figure out the stuff you don't want me to know." Snow smiled.

"I think it was Amazon." Emma said conversationally. "But that girl knows more than I do. I'm quite worried for August's physical health with that one."

"Please, don't give me visuals. I remember letting him hide in my closet for hide and seek as a kid." Snow said, making a face.

Emma laughed, and the tension hovering about the room seemed to vanish. But she kept her mother's words in mind. Her relationship with Jefferson was going to stay purely platonic.

Although, if he ever pulled a move like that one in Rumpelstiltskin's shop, she wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't give in. And that thought was scaring her more than anything Regina could cook up.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Got a minute?"

Jefferson looked up from where he was examining a map of the Enchanted Forest. "I always have a minute for my favorite little sis." He assured her.

Francis snorted as she perched herself on the desk. "I'm your only little sis, and I'm barely even that."

Jefferson flapped his hand. "Details, details. What's the matter?"

"I, uh…" Now that she was here, Francis wasn't sure what to say. She also wasn't sure what Jefferson's reaction would be once she said it. "I noticed you're spending a lot of time with Emma lately."

"I suppose so." Jefferson replied evenly.

"And I couldn't help but notice that… uh… you um, that is…" Francis sighed. "I don't know."

"You think that I look at her the way I looked at Alice." Jefferson said quietly.

Francis started. "Maybe?" She said tentatively.

Jefferson tossed the map onto the desk. "I'm not sure what to say here." He admitted. "When Emma came into town… well, I just knew she was special. Time started moving again, for Wonderland's sake. And when I kidnapped her – not my brightest move, but I was desperate – and I was _with_ her… I don't know."

He remembered when Emma had been toying with the dozens of hats on the shelves. The urge to touch her, to place his hands on her hips and run his lips over her neck, bury his fingers in that blonde hair… it had been so sudden and overwhelming that he'd nearly thought he really was crazy. And not just the I'm-the-only-person-who-knows-the-truth-stuck-in-this-house-without-my-daughter kind of crazy, but really, truly insane. Regina's punishment for him had taken its toll, sure, but he hadn't had those feelings since Alice and for a moment there he'd worried that he'd gone off the deep end for good.

But he wasn't about to talk about his 'urges' with his younger sister-in-law, even if he was ninety-nine percent sure that she and Elaine were definitely no longer virgins.

"You love her, don't you?" Francis asked.

"I wouldn't go that far…" Jefferson protested.

Francis gave him a look. "You loved Alice deeply; nobody knows that better than I do. Only someone really special could turn your head."

"Even if I did, she wouldn't ever feel the same." Jefferson protested wearily.

"Spoken like a knight who's given up the fight before it's even begun." Francis said.

"I'm no knight, Franny. I'm not you." Jefferson said.

Francis hopped off the desk and knelt in front of him. "Somebody very wise once told me that if you have a chance at love, you seize it. You hold onto it, and you never let it go, no matter what. You fight for it with every breath in your body."

Jefferson's lips quirked. "That person sounds like a good advisor."

"He's the best man that I know." Francis assured him. She stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I promised Elaine that I would let her teach me how to cook. I told her it's a lost cause but she's determined."

Jefferson grinned, watching the young woman happily head home to her love. He sighed and glanced back at the map again before getting out of his chair. Whatever he and Emma had – raw chemistry or something more – they needed to sort it out.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Got a minute?"

Emma turned. "Oh, hi." She said. "And you are?"

"Call me Louise." The woman said. "I used to run the psych ward in the hospital." Louise lowered her voice, sounding rather ashamed. "I was in charge of that lovely girl Belle." She admitted.

"Oh." Emma said. "Well, I'm sure that nobody holds it against you. What do you want?"

There was a slight pricking feeling in her arm. The room elongated, stretching until Emma was incredibly small, then shrank until she felt like her head would crash through the ceiling. Everything swirled and twisted like in a funhouse mirror before swirling like water down a drain and she fell, collapsing to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Alice." Louise whispered. "But I had to do it. You'll understand once we're safely home."

Ten minutes later, Jefferson entered an empty Sheriff's office. "Emma?" He called, looking around.

"She's not here."

Jefferson turned to see a frantic Snow, eyes rimmed red and cheeks tear-stained, clutching Emma's signature red jacket. "I came to pick her up and… she's gone."

"Gone? Where?" Jefferson demanded.

"I don't know!" Snow sobbed. "All that's here is her jacket, which she'd never leave behind, and this." She opened her palm, revealing an empty syringe.

Jefferson swooped down, snatching the needle out of her hand. He held it up to the light. When he brought his hand back down, he spied the nurse's cap on the floor, half underneath the desk.

He remembered the woman in charge of the psych ward, and everything clicked.

"She's in Wonderland." He said, turning to leave.

"What? Wonderland?" Snow followed him, disbelieving. "Why would she be there?"

"The Red Queen's taken her." Jefferson explained.

"But why?" Snow asked.

Jefferson sighed. "Because she thinks that Emma is Alice. She's trying to… I don't know, atone or get a second chance or something."

"But why would Emma be Alice? Who is this Alice?" Snow begged.

"Alice is… she was my wife." Jefferson swallowed. "And she's thinks Emma is Alice because they're both blonde."

He didn't add the other reason why Louise would think that Emma was Alice. Besides the blonde hair, there was a much stronger pull for the insane queen.

He had loved Alice. Now he loved Emma.

And that might just get her destroyed.

**How did I do on Snow? She's so cute with her frantic talking… my favorite moment has to be in the Season 2 premiere "Broken", when James finds out she had a one night stand with Whale. "We were cursed!" Hee hee hee…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Rescue time! Emma is going to hate that she was a damsel in distress…**

"What do you mean the Red Queen took her?" James shouted.

"I mean that she's insane, she's fixated on Emma as Alice, and she's taken her to Wonderland. Probably through drugs; they're all rather fond of those." Jefferson explained.

"But why Emma? And why does she need an Alice?" James asked.

Jefferson glanced over at Francis. She sat, tense and unmoving, the only sign that she was with them showing in how tightly she was gripping Elaine's hand. He couldn't tell them everything; that would devastate Francis. He'd promised Carol and, in a way, Alice, that he would protect Francis, and he intended to live up to that promise.

"Ever since Alice, my late wife, visited Wonderland, the Queen of Hearts has been obsessed with her. She thinks that she needs her – as a daughter or something." Jefferson said. He kept an eye on Francis the entire time he was talking. She neither moved nor showed any emotion on her stony face. He could only assume that Louise had somehow found out about Carol's love of Alice, her daughter, and had twisted it somehow.

"We have to get her back." Snow interjected.

"I'll go and get her." Jefferson assured her. "I promise."

"I'll come, too." Francis said, standing up. Her eyes were glowing like hot coals.

"No." Jefferson said quickly. "The rules of travel are complicated." He couldn't let Francis find out the truth. She'd never seen her mother, but she would figure things out; she was annoyingly smart that way. He could not let her anywhere near the Queen of Hearts.

"How can we trust you?" James asked.

Francis glared at him warningly.

"Apologies, Francis." James said. "But it's my daughter; I'm hesitant to trust anyone."

"Understood." Francis said, backing down apologetically.

"Look, I promise you, your Majesties – I'll return Emma safe and unharmed." Jefferson swore. "Her safety means everything to me."

Snow's face showed that she knew – or suspected – the feeling behind his words, but Jefferson avoided looking her in the eyes. He avoided looking at Francis, too, both because of the whole Queen of Hearts situation and because if she saw his eyes now, she'd get a knowing smirk that wouldn't leave for days.

"I'll set out immediately, if that's all right." Jefferson said.

"Yes, please." Snow nodded. "Bring her back."

"Everybody stand back." Placing the hat in the middle of the room, Jefferson gave it a spin. The hat began to twirl, tilting and whirling like a child's spinning top.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" Francis yelled over the whirling din.

"I'm sure." Jefferson assured her. "I promise you that I will bring her back!" He shouted at Snow. Taking a deep breath, he jumped into the hat.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Wonderland during the day was an almost sickening whirl of Technicolor, but during the night the flora and fauna lit up like ornaments on a Christmas tree. The sky had a permanent Aurora Borealis-type display going on, and nearly every non-sentient flower and bug glowed warmly. It was at times like these that Jefferson thought that his homeland was almost beautiful.

Emphasis on the 'almost', here – there were Bandersnatch running around, after all.

He made his way through the silent maze surrounding the Heart Castle, slipping between the hedges like a Griffin through the sky – silent and impossibly quick.

When he reached the castle, he found himself in the middle of an immense ball. Well, that certainly explained the lack of guards about. The grand ballroom was lit up with an immense chandelier that looked like a circular stack of cards, revealing the members of court as they gossiped and danced. Everyone wore red, white, or a combination, with black for the accents. Jefferson scanned the crowd, searching.

He found her in the middle of the dance floor, waltzing languidly with some earl or something. He stepped forward.

"May I cut in?" He asked. Without waiting for the man's permission, he swept Emma away. He expected a cutting remark or something sarcastic, but to his surprise Emma only looked at him strangely and said,

"You're not wearing red or white."

Jefferson stared at her. "Emma?" He whispered.

"Who?" She replied, curiously.

Jefferson looked her up and down. She was wearing a gorgeous white dress, slinky and stylish, her long hair swept up out of her face. She reminded him of… well, a swan. When he met her eyes, though, he found the answer he sought. Instead of quick, searching eyes with a gaze that could pierce two-inch thick steel, he found a muddy swirl of drugged complacency.

"Mushrooms." He muttered. "Damn it. There's no getting out of that once you're addicted."

"Hmm?" Emma asked.

"Look, Emma, it's me! Jefferson! I kidnapped you and your mom, I drugged your tea, we've had more fights than I can count; I help babysit your son!" Jefferson said. He tightened his hold on her and shook her a little.

Emma shook her head, the drugs making the movement a lot more disjointed and wobbly. "You know, you're really handsome. And I don't mean sexy – though you are – but _real_ handsome. Not a lot of guys are, y'know? But you're just plain crazy, too."

"I'm pretty sure that's your description of me when you're not drugged, as well." Jefferson assured her. "Some things never change."

Emma just smiled at him, like she didn't know what he was rattling on about but was trying to be polite.

"Emma…" Jefferson pleaded.

Emma shook her head again. "Who?" She asked.

Jefferson scrolled through his options. Once drugged with Wonderland mushrooms, there was no way out of the addiction. It was practically a form of magic spell.

Magic.

It was a long shot, but he was willing to try it. He'd do anything to get the real Emma, _his_ Emma, back.

"You're going to kill me for this." He muttered.

He tugged her even closer to him and stopped dancing, bringing his free hand up to hold her head as he kissed her. It only lasted a moment and was definitely PG, but when he pulled away she chased after him, latching onto him and swiping her tongue against his lips. It was definitely not PG after that. He became lost in the taste of her – heady and strong and a little like a good whisky, a little dirty but so pure and strong at the same time. It was so utterly Emma that he was certain he'd be able to tell it was she just by taste alone now.

He pulled back for air in time to watch her eyes flutter open to take in his face, her brown eyes clear once again. Her face was a little flushed and her lips were red and swollen. Jefferson swallowed down the need to dive back in and taste those lips again, suck on them and maybe even bite down, gently, on the bottom one…

"Jefferson?" Emma asked, her voice a little on the raw side.

"Hey." He said. He automatically stroked her cheek. "You okay?"

"I'm… I'm fine… except that I'm in a dress, in this party, and you…" Emma didn't complete the sentence. She cleared her throat. "Uh, um, where are we and how do we get out of here?"

"You're in Wonderland, it's a long story, and follow me." Jefferson replied. He kept her close to him but carefully swept her across the dance floor towards the exit. He wanted to attract as little attention as possible, and sprinting from the room was sure to get noticed. Once they reached the edge of the room he moved her so that his arm was around her waist, gently escorting her out the door.

"I hate these heels." Emma ground out. "And when did you learn to dance?"

"Well, let's see… I worked for a queen and married a princess. Dancing is mandatory." Jefferson quipped. "And you can take the heels off once we're out of here."

"Why was the room spinning?" Emma asked. "Because I'm pretty sure that up until you shoved your tongue in my mouth it was spinning pretty bad."

"Actually, _you_ started the tongue thing." Jefferson rebutted. "Don't you go blaming me for that."

"We are never discussing that with anyone." Emma ordered. "And if y–"

"Where is she going?" Came a shriek that could only belong to the mad Queen of Hearts. "Get him! Off with their heads!"

"Time to run." Jefferson said.

"Finally, off with these fucking heels!" Emma said, shucking the offending footwear without breaking her stride.

The two of them sprinted out of the palace and plunged into the maze. Jefferson kept a tight hold of Emma's hand to ensure that they wouldn't be separated. People had died from being lost in the hedge labyrinth before.

"We're almost there." He assured her.

They emerged from the maze and found themselves back at the edge of the forest. Jefferson set his hat down on the ground and spun it, creating the distinctive purple vortex.

"Why is this all fucking purple?" Emma asked, determined to be grouchy.

"Because purple is the color of magic, now stop complaining and jump!" Jefferson said. He didn't wait for her answer, making sure he had a good hold of her hand and leaping in. Emma gave a scream next to him, which was rather uncharacteristic of her. He didn't understand why until they emerged from the hat.

'They' being himself, Emma, and Louise, the Red Queen of Hearts. She was clutching at Emma's ankle. Emma shook the woman off, stumbling backwards into Jefferson, who instinctively caught her as they both tumbled to the floor. Emma clutched at him, glaring at Louise like she was trying to murder her with her eyes alone.

Jefferson stood up, helping Emma to stand and stepping away from her. The last thing she'd want would be for everyone to notice and comment on how she was holding onto him, like he was a life raft and she adrift in a stormy sea. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"What the hell was that all about?" Emma demanded. "Who the _fuck_ is Alice, and why the fucking hell did you think that I was her?"

Louise looked confused. "But… but he…" She pointed at Jefferson. "And you… so pretty, and blonde, so brave… just like Alice…"

"Why are you so interested in my sister?" Francis demanded, stepping forward.

Oh, shit. Things were about to hit the fan.

Louise stared at Francis for a long moment. "Your sister?" She asked.

Jefferson could see the change beginning as the two sides of the woman competed for dominance.

"Yes, Alice, my sister. You killed her!" Francis shouted.

"I didn't… it was Regina, she said, no, wait, off with all of their heads! Stop, no…" The woman, neither Carol nor Louise, sank to the floor, clutching her head.

"Jefferson?" Emma turned to him, her patented concerned face at the ready. He shook his head. He couldn't take the time to explain now.

There was a cry, and the Queen of Hearts stood once more. Her face was softer, and her eyes glowed with warmth, not madness.

Carol had won out.

"Francis? Are you my baby?" She asked gently.

Francis gaped like a dying fish.

"It's you, I know it's you." Carol whispered. "You have his eyes… your father's eyes…"

"Mom?" Francis said the word like it was a broken thing, only just now patched up and put back together. A forgotten toy fixed and presented to the child who thought it lost or long gone.

"She's your mother, Francis." Jefferson said. He hoped that his remorse came across to her. "She has a split personality."

"The White Queen and the Red Queen." Carol said sadly.

"I… I don't…" Francis swallowed.

"Regina." Carol said softly.

That explained everything. While there were still unanswered questions, no more was needed.

"You're… you're alive." Francis stated, sounding slightly stupid.

Elaine stepped forward and grabbed Francis' hand. "It's customary, I believe, to hug?" She teased gently, pushing Francis forward towards Carol.

Francis stumbled into Carol's arms, not crying but just clinging to her, pale, her eyes bright and wet with unshed tears. She trembled a little, burying her face into the woman's shoulder, soaking her up with every sense that she could.

"My sweet baby." Carol whispered.

Sarah stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. "Mother." She choked out. Carol opened up an arm and the eldest daughter came forward, hugging her mother tightly. Francis just continued to cling, beyond words or coherent thought.

"Oh for goodness' sake. Do all of my minions have to defy me at every turn? What makes you people so rebellious?" A voice that could only belong to Regina demanded.

Everyone turned to see none other than the Evil Queen standing in the doorway.

"I'll admit that this wasn't my original plan in coming here, but what can I say? I'm an opportunist." She smiled wickedly. "Looks like you have to lose your remaining children, Carol."

"What? What is this?" Sarah demanded. "Mother?"

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Regina asked. "Normally I hate to explain things repeatedly but I do so love to see the looks on your faces. Long story short, your mother here promised that she'd give into her madness and let Louise run rampant in Wonderland for me in exchange for saving her life and Francis' life after her delivery went south. If she ever changed back to Carol, all of her children would die. I already had to kill poor Alice." Regina's grin grew. "You should've seen Jefferson's reaction."

Jefferson glared, instinctively stepping in front of Emma, who was staring at him like she'd never seen him before. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't–"

"You couldn't have known." He reassured her, continuing to glare at Regina.

"So whom should we start with?" Regina asked. "Oh! I know! Age before beauty!" She pointed a finger at Sarah.

Francis drew her sword. "Just try it." She snarled.

"Would you look at that – a volunteer." Regina smirked.

Francis was thrown against the wall by an invisible force, her sword clattering to the ground. She began to choke, kicking and twisting fiercely to try and escape the magical grip.

"No!" Carol screamed. She picked up Francis' dropped sword. "You're losing a pawn for good this time, Regina. You aren't getting any more of my children!"

"Mother!" Sarah shrieked.

The sword went into Carol's body like butter, spreading blood across her dress far faster than Hollywood films would have people believe possible. She sank to the ground, her throat constricting as her body fought for breath that wasn't there, her eyes wide and glassy. Regina released Francis, who fell to the ground with a thump. The girl wasn't even fazed, dashing forwards to clutch at her mother's body.

"No, no, no, no, please, no!" Francis screamed. Sarah stared down in horror, unable to move. Francis shook the dead body, screaming. "No! No! Mother, come back please come back…"

Elaine and Jefferson both grabbed her, pulling her back. Francis screamed again, trying to shake them off.

"Such a lovely family gathering." Regina said mockingly. "Well, my debt is paid. Goodnight, all!" She waved.

"You better run, bitch." Francis spat. Regina turned back, startled.

"What did you call me?" She asked.

"You killed Alice. You killed my mother!" Francis hissed. "You nearly drove my brother insane, and you left my niece without any parents. I said that you better run, because when I get through with you, there won't be a big enough piece of you left for them to bury!"

Regina laughed. "Try it." She taunted. She swept out of the room, leaving Elaine to whisper in Francis' ear and calm her down. Everyone stared at the body, the sword still sticking out of it, the eyes wide but unseeing. They had all been presented anew with proof of Regina's vileness, and the dual detached and gleeful manner with which she treated the victims of her villainous acts.

"Let's go to bed." Elaine cooed in Francis' ear. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go to bed. You need it, you need to rest…"

Francis slumped against Elaine, holding onto her the way Emma had to Jefferson when they'd emerged from the hat. "Okay." She agreed in a whisper. "Okay, love."

She allowed Elaine to lead her from the room.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Emma collapsed onto the sofa, her thoughts chasing one another around in circles like a merry-go-round clocking sixty miles an hour.

"Sorry to disturb you."

Emma jumped, turning to find Francis standing there. "You people really need to learn how to knock." She said. "And aren't you grieving?"

"Thanks; you're so tactful." Francis said sarcastically. "I had to talk to you."

"About what?" Emma asked.

"You were under a spell, or drugs, or something." Francis said. "We found the syringe."

"Okay, so?"

"So how did Jefferson cure you?" Francis asked. "How did he break the spell?"

"Well I don't remember much; it was kind of like an LSD trip. Never try that, by the way. It's scary as shit." Emma advised. "But the first thing I remember clearly, when things got back to normal in my head, was…" She trailed off. She was not about to share that with this girl.

"He kissed you, didn't he?" Francis said. It was barely a question.

Emma didn't answer.

"You know that only true love's kiss can break any curse, no matter what form it takes or how powerful." Francis said.

"Look, kid, you've been through a lot. Just go home." Emma said.

Francis stood up. "I'm not in the mood for bullshit, Sheriff." She said quietly. "I'm sick of you two denying this. I want at least one member of my family to be happy. Is that too much to ask for? A little happiness?"

She turned and walked over to the door. "Go to him." She said. "You both deserve it. And don't worry, I'll see myself out."

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Emma stared at her hands for a long time, and the closed door for even longer.

When she finally got into her car and drove to his house, she sat parked along the side of the street for a good twenty minutes before screwing up the courage to get to his front door.

When he opened the door, he looked so surprised and curious and solemnly pleased that she couldn't help but feel a little happy herself.

"Mind if I come in?" She asked.

"You're always welcome, Emma." He replied, holding the door open enough for her to step in. "Although, the hour is rather unusual."

"True love's kiss." Emma said, turning to face him head-on.

Jefferson blinked. "What about it?"

"That's what you gave me." Emma said. "That's how you cured me."

Jefferson looked both defiant and extremely embarrassed. "You did start the tongue thing." He finally said.

Emma remembered the last person who'd made her feel this way. How was she to know that Jefferson wouldn't die in her arms as well?

"I'm not like Graham." Jefferson said, as if reading her mind.

Of course he'd known about that, the Peeping Tom. Not that she could blame him – what else was he expected to do with a telescope while under house arrest for 28 years?

"I'm bad for you." Emma started. "I'm bad for everybody, I'm shocked that I even managed to break this curse although I'm not sure that I broke it properly, because we're still here, and I've never done anything but mess up every relationship I've ever had, and–"

Jefferson stepped forward, ensconcing her in his arms and kissing her. Emma's protests died away as she felt and tasted him once more. He was silk and tea and sophistication and dark, seductive madness. She clutched at his jacket, deepening the kiss until she felt like they couldn't pry themselves apart if they tried.

"Bed." She gasped. "You. Now."

"Um, don't you think that we might be, you know…" Jefferson stopped when she ground against him. "Bed it is."

He slowly led her up the stairs towards his room, keeping her in his arms the entire time. Emma was pretty sure that their lips never left each other's skin for more than three seconds during the entire trip.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Did you get what you came for, your Majesty?"

"Of course I did. Ended up making a lovely distraction so that her absence wasn't noticed. He'll notice, of course, very soon if he hasn't already."

"What do you want with her in the meantime?"

"Put her up in Henry's old room."

Regina smiled, holding the younger woman's chin in her cold fingers. "Hopefully this will be more comfortable than your time in my dungeons, hmm, Belle?"

"You're playing with fire, Regina." Belle stated. The men began to drag her off. "He's going to tear you limb from limb for this!"

"Well, your precious Rumpelstiltskin is going to have to get in line for that one." Regina said dryly. The corners of her mouth turned up. Things were finally starting to go her way.

**What? Did you think it was going to be Happily Ever After? You poor, gullible fools…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Smut ahoy! What, you really thought I would give you all that build up without delivering the goods?**

When things are opposites, they cannot usually come together because, well, they are opposite. They are the black and the white, completely different ends of the spectrum, and they cannot meet.

And yet… they were.

Wrong and right, giving and taking, dark and light, combing together into this one event that was absolutely crazy and yet one of the few sane moments either person had experienced in far too long.

He wouldn't stop holding her. It was like he was afraid of what would happen if she left the safety of his arms. His hands ran over her back, under her shirt, constantly tugging her closer to him. When they finally reached his bedroom (how big was this house, anyway?) he presented to her a new combination that should have been impossible. His hands gripped her roughly, pulling her up so that she had to wrap her legs around him, but despite the possessive hold he had on her he laid her on the bed with such gentleness that she was astounded.

Emma tried to think of the last time someone had touched her like this… like she was the end all be all of existence, the answer to everything, a goddess to be worshipped.

The answer was 'never'.

"Why?" She murmured. Jefferson stopped tonguing her cleavage and looked up at her.

"Why what?" He asked.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows, tugging him up by his scarf so that they were face-to-face again. "Why me?" She asked. She felt extremely vulnerable. She'd wondered the same thing before with Graham – why her? She was nobody, a loser who'd done nothing but make mistakes all of her life, and yet when Jefferson looked at her like that, like his world had shrunken down to nothing but her… what had she ever done to deserve that? What made her special to him?

Jefferson gave her that smile, the one that always sent chills down her body (the good kind). He slipped an arm around her and rolled so that she was on top of him, before sitting up, giving Emma no choice but to straddle his lap.

"Because," He began. He helped her take off her shirt and started undoing his scarf and vest, but his eyes never left hers. "You are simply astounding, Emma Swan."

She gave him her best I-don't-believe-you look, usually reserved for Henry. Jefferson sighed.

"Once again, you don't believe me." He said. He ran his hands idly over her stomach and chest. "Do you honestly have no idea how brave you are? How strong and sure? You've been through some painful shit, we all have, and you don't even know this world the way that we do. But you keep going, and you're still our leader."

Emma felt like she might cry. She wasn't going to, damn it, because she did _not_ do stuff like that, but she felt like it. She looped her arms around his (now bare) neck, anchoring herself to him.

"You're beautiful, but then I think you know that." Jefferson went on. He planted a kiss on the swell of her right breast, his lips impossibly soft. "You're intelligent and can see through lies and other crap faster than anyone I've ever met. And from the moment I saw you arrive here, I knew that you were special. And not just in general, but special to me. I knew that you could save me."

Emma chuckled, but it was watery and warbling, betraying the emotion that she felt. "I'm…" She swallowed. "I'm not…"

"You are." Jefferson insisted, cutting her off. "And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to."

Emma slipped forward, resting their foreheads together. There were so many things she could say, but none of them felt right and she was never good with words. Emma Swan was a doer, not a talker and rarely a thinker.

"You're still wearing too many damn clothes." She reminded him.

Jefferson growled and flipped them so that she was once again lying underneath him on the bed. "Did I also mention that you're an evil little vixen?" He asked conversationally.

"Pants. Off. Pronto." Emma insisted.

Jefferson complied, letting go of her for the first time since they'd started this. Emma missed the warmth, the safety, the reassurance his touch brought her. He made her feel dangerous, on the edge, and yet completely safe. More conundrums, more impossibilities. Was that was love was?

He dropped back down to her, pressing his body against hers. Emma looped a leg around his waist, smiling at him. He stared at her in wonder. Her golden hair splayed out in messy half-curls on the bed, her brown eyes large with their pupils blown wide with lust, her entire face flushed. It was like when they'd kissed before only more so, more extreme. He wanted to see her face like that at least once a day for the rest of his life.

Emma was a woman of action. Maybe actions would succeed where words had failed?

Jefferson pushed her back further onto the bed, carefully taking her hands from his body and pushing them back onto the mattress. Emma gave him a quizzical look but didn't fight his grip. He bent his head and began to kiss her, starting at her forehead and working his way down, trailing his lips over her temple and her cheek, her earlobe and down her jaw to her neck. He licked, sucked, and occasionally bit his way down her body, his lips moving against her skin like whispered prayers. Emma bit her lip so hard that it bled to avoid whimpering, but small sounds managed to escape her mouth anyway. He was treating her like she was the last thing on earth, the only thing of any importance. It both elated and scared her, this worship. It was the latest in the long line of opposites attracting that night, and she was beginning to accept that it would always be that way with him. He was somehow providing her with two different things at once, both danger and safety net. And he was offering to stay that way with every kiss he bestowed upon her body.

He gave himself up to her with every movement of his mouth, giving her every bit of him even as he claimed her as his with the marks he left on nearly every inch of skin she had. He could only hope that she knew this was another way of telling her how he felt, how much she meant to him. Not to Storybrooke in general, but to _him_. She was his madness, his addiction, and the one thing keeping him clearheaded and sane. He didn't know if she was ready to accept it, and he feared that she would run if she new the depth of his feelings, but she hadn't avoided or killed him for the 'true love's kiss' thing, so he poured his heart into his actions and prayed that she would know what he was telling her. He'd loved her from the minute he had seen her, and he would love her until one of them was snatched away by death. It was like a bottomless pit, scary and a little dizzying but unending, full with this deadly, wonderful emotion that transcended time and place and meaning and anything else, from laws to magic, that stood in its way.

Emma gave up her battle with herself and got vocal when he put his mouth between her thighs. Her body shook violently with the effort of trying not to buck wildly, giving a tiny scream when he flattened his tongue inside of her.

"You gotta… you have to – to stop…" She tried to twist away from him, but he sealed his mouth over her, sucking and removing all coherent thought from her brain. He flicked his tongue inside of her before plunging in again, curling it as he gently took her swollen clit in his teeth.

Emma honest-to-god screamed, arching up off of the bed before crashing back down, her body as limp as a rag doll, all energy shot out of her as she came. When she finally scrounged up enough power to move, she got up to look at him. He had the biggest, cockiest grin on his face.

"Men." Emma rolled her eyes.

Jefferson slid back up her body, eliciting a whimper at the feel of his hot skin on her still-sensitive flesh. "Now do you understand?" He whispered.

"Yes." At least, she thought she did.

"Good." He released her wrists and slipped his hand down to stroke her thigh. "Are you okay?"

"Okay?" Emma snorted. "That was a little better than 'okay'. Now are you going to move on to the main event or what?"

"So poetic." He teased. Emma glared at him.

Her glare turned into a screwed-up face of shock and pleasure as he slid into her, sudden and quick. She loved the tenderness but if he could be a little more rough on this one she would be ever so grateful…

He examined her face carefully, looking for signs of displeasure. Emma rolled her eyes and grabbed his ass, doing her best to hold him still so that she could buck and grind up into him. Hopefully the guy could take the hint.

Jefferson didn't simply get the message – her actions seemed to make something in him snap. Emma thought she saw a hint of that madness in his eyes, but it was quickly smothered by lust and that lurking emotion that was creating all of these impossible harmonies, and he began to move. It was, indeed, on the raw side, and Emma met him for every thrust that she could, keeping the rhythm hard and fast. Everything around her was pounding – the bed, the walls, the floor, their hearts in her ears, and not least of all themselves, their bodies not so much rocking as thumping into the mattress, their slick, sweaty skin slapping together and adding to the pounding in her ears. It was a carnal symphony, mostly percussions but also wind instruments provided by their gasps and heavy breaths, the scratchy string of violins heard in the sound of the sheets moving and twisting, and as stars began to dance behind her eyes she swore she heard a piano going off somewhere, keys jangling together in an uneven cacophony that nevertheless sounded like it belonged in a concert hall.

As for the finale, there were no fireworks. Fireworks were too distant, too sparkly and fizzling. This was warmer, exploding but then spreading through her like a thick syrup, sweet and hot and filling her up until she was bursting and she had to release it, the colors dancing behind her closed eyes becoming a whirl, a vortex that sucked her in and nearly drowned her but oh, it was drowning her in that sweet warm sensation and she wasn't certain that she ever wanted to breathe again.

Jefferson did try to drown her in kisses the minute he could move again, as if he were thanking her for giving this to him. Emma felt more like she'd taken, snatched everything that he had to offer and hoarded it selfishly, obsessively, indulging in it like the forbidden fruit.

She stared up at him, wondering if she should say it back – if she _could_ say it. Emma had a particularly vocal conscience, despite her attempts to smother it over the years, and it was shrieking at her indignantly now.

Her tongue felt incredibly heavy and she wondered if this was how everyone felt when they said these words. There were few phrases that held as much meaning and significance, after all.

But she'd been fighting this, fighting it since he'd shown up pretending she'd hit him with her car, and he'd pretty much admitted it by breaking the spell on her in Wonderland and then spent the last hour proving it to her.

"I love you." The words were so quiet that she was afraid he'd have to be a lip reader to understand her.

Jefferson gave her the lightest, softest of kisses. "Well, that just proves you're almost as mad as I am." He tried to joke, but his voice was laden with emotion.

"Well, I'm mad enough to stay the night, anyway." Emma muttered. "Are those pillows of yours any good?"

He smiled at her, slow and steady, and pulled her up so they could crawl under the covers. Emma Swan did not snuggle, ever in her life, but she was exhausted and tired and it just felt right to lay her head on his arm and wrap her arms around his waist, curling into him until it was difficult to figure out where she ended and he began.

It took two seconds for her to fall asleep, and she never knew how long he stayed awake, watching her as she dreamed, cradling her and imagining a world where the nightmares lurking at the corners of his eyes were gone and he could protect her from the forces that raged about them. He swore to himself that he would take care of her as best he could. He would dirty his hands, soil them with blood if need be, to keep her pure and safe. It amazed him that she thought she was worthless when she had the cleanest soul he'd ever seen. He would do anything and everything to ensure that it stayed that way, that this world of magic did not corrupt her. He would do what he'd failed to do with Alice. He would keep her safe.

Because if he didn't, he was certain that he'd slip into a madness he could never escape.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Francis sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets so tightly that she nearly tore them. Elaine sat next to her, watching concernedly, saying nothing. She was waiting for Francis to make the first move.

"I lost her." Francis uttered brokenly. "I had her and I lost her…"

"She wanted it this way." Elaine assured her. "She loved you."

Francis laughed bitterly. Elaine turned, kneeling in front of her, mimicking their positions from that day when they'd decided to accept Rumpelstiltskin's deal. It felt like such a short time ago, and yet it had been over 28 years since that fateful night.

"Listen to me." Elaine said fiercely. "There was a time when I would have given the world for my father to love me the way that your mother clearly loved you. I don't need his love, now, not since I have you. You're better than a hundred of my father. But that doesn't change the fact that I can appreciate a parent's love when I see it and I know, I _know_ that your mother is happy wherever she is.

"There's no use beating yourself up about something beyond your control. You might as well rail at the weather! Perhaps Regina deserves to die for what she did but I will not see you go down this path. I will not see you destroy yourself out of grief and guilt.

"It takes courage to move on from sorrow like this, but love I know that you can. You are the bravest person that I have ever known, and I know that you have the courage to move past this."

Francis slowly turned her head to look at Elaine. Her hard mask of grief crumbled and tears leaked out of her eyes. "Oh, Lanie." She murmured, pulling the girl up and hugging her. "You are so much better than I am." She whispered.

Elaine chuckled, holding onto Francis just as tightly. "I love you, my girl knight."

"Love you too." Francis sighed. "I love you too much."

And when she let the tears come, Elaine held her, neither caring as her anguish soaked the sheets and pillows, replacing her heartache with Elaine's whispered words of assurance as the night rolled by.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It's said that good sex is hard to hide, but great sex is impossible.

Whoever thought up that saying needed to be labeled a fucking philosopher on par with Socrates, because it felt to Emma like everyone knew exactly what she'd been getting up to with Jefferson, down to the last dirty detail.

The three more rounds before breakfast that morning did not help matters. She was glowing so much that she suspected if you turned out the lights she'd work as a flashlight.

James said nothing, opting to live in blissful denial. Snow was roped into a discussion about it with Ruby, who wanted all of the details, and had to keep swallowing and making gurgling noises with her throat. Emma's stuttering, mumbled description was too little information for Ruby and too much information for her mother.

Francis wasn't too sucked into her grief to forget to shoot Jefferson a knowing look. The dwarves had, apparently, been making bets. Grumpy won. Henry and Grace had to be told that their parents were dating, of course, before someone said something that the little ones were not meant to overhear.

Oh, and those hickeys on her neck really, really weren't helping matters. Although Jefferson's method of giving them to her (against the jail cell in a stolen moment) still gave her the shivers.

But all bubbles must pop eventually, and that morning fate decided that all hell was going to break loose.

Strangers have never come into Storybrooke except for two times, and it could be argued that Emma and August actually belonged there, so they weren't really strangers at all. But trouble comes in threes, and that morning Storybrooke was graced with another mysterious figure that would inevitably stir the pot.

They were all gathered in the Sheriff's office, Emma and Rumpelstiltskin going toe-to-toe over something.

"Where's Belle when you need her?" James mumbled to Snow. Only Belle could calm the Dark One down when he was in a mood like this.

The door swung open and shut, the bell tinkling, but everyone was so absorbed in the argument that nobody noticed the man until he was standing right in their midst.

Emma was the first to see him. She froze, her eyes widening, stopping mid-tirade to stammer and gape. Rumpelstiltskin turned to see what she was looking at and froze as well.

"Bae?" He whispered.

The dark-haired man, a good few years older than Emma, shuffled his feet. "Dad? You're… your skin, it's…"

Emma strode forward and slapped Baelfire so hard his head snapped. "You son of a stinking bitch." She snarled.

"Emma!" Snow gasped. Jefferson ran up, pulling her back.

"What the hell was that?" He whispered.

Rumpelstiltskin looked like he just might smite Emma where she stood. "You lay a hand on him again, Miss Swan, and I swear to you that I will–"

"You keep out of this!" Emma snapped. "I don't know how you two know each other but this is my business!" She whirled back to Baelfire. "What the flying fuck are you doing here?"

"I came to track down my father." Baelfire explained. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"She's our daughter." James said sternly.

"I'm sorry… how do you two know each other?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

Snow was the first to figure it out. The dark eyes and hair, Emma's reaction… _Henry will never know the truth_…

"Oh my god." Snow breathed.

Emma groaned. Memories that she hated, that she'd stamped down and rejected, came flooding back.

She'd told Henry part of the truth. He had been a firefighter, and she was a waitress, and he did love pie. But that was the end of it. He was older, and dangerous, and a jerk once he got what he wanted. They fucked in an alley. She hadn't even had time to think about protection. It was the dirtiest fuck she'd ever had, and Emma Swan had her fair share of those. But she was eighteen and an idiot and she loved him, and she did whatever he asked of her whenever her shift was over. She sucked off more times than she'd ever admit.

The night she'd told him about Henry, he'd hit the roof. He'd seemed so frightened, terrified and angry, shouting about things she didn't understand. She'd called him a coward. Then he'd hit her, and then she'd left.

The very thought of him made her feel dirty. She wanted to vomit.

"Um, an explanation for the rest of us would be nice." Jefferson said.

"Mom?" Henry asked.

Emma looked at her son, broken. "Henry, this is…" She swallowed. "This is…" She couldn't do it. "He's a bastard that should have stayed away."

Henry's head swung from Baelfire to Emma and back again, like he was watching a tennis match. Emma felt Jefferson's grip on her arms tighten.

"Shit, Emma." He breathed in her ear. "He's not…"

"He is." She confirmed. She sighed. "He was a huge mistake, and I…"

"It's okay." Jefferson's hands moved so that his arms were around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest, keeping her safe. Emma wanted to turn around, bury her face into his shirt and never come out. This was like a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from.

"Wait." Francis stepped forward. "Let me get this straight. You," She pointed at Baelfire. "Are his," She pointed at Rumpelstiltskin, "Son. You are also his," She pointed at Henry. "Father. She," Francis pointed at Emma. "Is the mother and is the daughter of them," She pointed at Snow and James. "And step-granddaughter of Regina. And she is currently dating him," She pointed towards Jefferson. "Who is my brother-in-law and father of Grace."

"I think that sums it up." Emma said miserably.

"This family is more fucked up than the Greek gods, and they married their siblings." Francis groaned.

"I'm sorry, Emma." Baelfire said. "I was messed up for years."

"I think that would be my fault." Rumpelstiltskin admitted.

"Big surprise." Jefferson muttered against Emma's neck. He was giving Baelfire the glare that he usually reserved for Regina.

"And I had no idea that you were here. I was drawn to this place, and I felt like I needed to come here."

"Bae…" Rumpelstiltskin said quietly. His joy at finally seeing his son was tempered by his sadness at what he'd been through, growing up alone. He was certain that whatever had transpired between his son and Emma was because of his actions, and his choices. And so the sins of the father are visited upon the son.

"She doesn't want to talk to you." Jefferson said. His voice was low and hoarse again, signifying the anger that lurked underneath. When Jefferson was angry, he didn't shout. He grew quiet, his eyes and voice sharpening until they were razor sharp.

"I'm sorry." Baelfire insisted. He took a step towards Emma, trying to meet her eyes. She gripped Jefferson's arms and looked resolutely at a spot on the wall. When Baelfire took a step towards her Jefferson shifted so that Emma was facing him, his arm looped around her waist and pressing her against and behind him.

"I said she doesn't want to talk to you." Jefferson repeated. His voice was deadly. "Now you can either back off and leave her alone, or you can deal with me. I can assure you, you won't enjoy the latter."

Baelfire stepped back. Jefferson's laser gaze did not leave him until he was back over by his father. Even then, Jefferson's grip on Emma did not loosen. He kept her pressed against his side, his hands trembling minutely with rage.

"It's okay." Emma whispered, worried that his fury would flame into madness if he let his control slip too far. "Jefferson, it's okay. I'm fine."

She wasn't eighteen anymore, Emma reminded herself. She was a grown-up woman who had just saved a small town crammed full of people. She was nearly thirty, for crying out fucking loud. She could handle an ex-boyfriend.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

Jefferson didn't relax his grip on her, but his hands stopped shaking. He took a deep breath. "Give me some credit, Emma." He bent his head so that he could look into her eyes. "You're shaken up."

Emma just moved to her left so that she was standing in front of him properly, slipping her arms around his waist so that she was more firmly in his embrace. "I'll be fine." She whispered. "Just… just don't let go."

Rumpelstiltskin was talking to Baelfire but stopped suddenly, frowning as he looked around.

"Where's Belle?" He asked. "Has anyone seen her?"

Everybody shifted and looked around.

"Uh, we kind of assumed that you knew where she was." August admitted.

Rumpelstiltskin looked like he just might turn August back into a puppet and break him into a thousand tiny splinters… before setting him on fire.

"She must have her." He spat.

"But… how?" James looked like he was still a little lost. "I'm still trying to catch up on how he fits into all of this." He indicated Baelfire.

"It was the night my mother died." Francis said dully. "Regina came… and she said that she wasn't expecting to see her there, but that it was a nice – what was the word – distraction, or something. She must have taken Belle then."

"We are getting her back." The dark wizard's eyes dared anyone to contradict him.

"I'm pretty sure that would mean storming the castle, figuratively speaking, I mean, it's not a castle but… you get the idea." Snow finished lamely.

"I'm going to get Belle back whether any of you are helping me or not." Rumpelstiltskin insisted.

"We're going to help you, imp, if you'll actually breathe for two seconds." Francis retorted.

Emma and Belle were the only two people besides Francis who were not afraid of the Dark One, and even they didn't give him remarks like that.

Now that the whole Baelfire thing had been relegated to being the elephant in the room, Emma emerged from the safety of Jefferson's vest and slipped out of his arms. She wanted to stay – she still couldn't process this (she could hardly process her current relationship, let alone the mess she'd thought she'd left behind), and while she was the savior, the leader, to everyone else, with Jefferson she could let go. That included both sex and knock-down drag-out screaming matches. But now was not the time to let go and show how crazy this was all making her. Now was not the time to give in or indulge. She had to be the leader. He let her step forward, his face showing his reluctance to let her go.

"You can't go alone." Emma said. "And we'll need stealth."

"She'll be expecting you to lose control." Jefferson said suddenly. Everybody seemed surprised at his speaking out. Normally he just advised Emma quietly, or did his part in silence. He wasn't the outspoken team player kind of guy. "A full-on attack, or for you to at least appear and demand Belle back. A sneak rescue attempt, she won't see coming."

Nobody asked how he knew this; they all assumed that it was his years of working for Regina. But this knowledge wasn't born out of experience, but emotion.

If Emma were to be taken, storming the castle (to use Snow's turn of phrase) to confront Regina and hopefully tear out her throat would be the first thing that he would think to do.

"Only Stealthy could sneak in under Regina's nose." Grumpy admitted.

"I'll go." Francis volunteered, as always. Belle was a sweet girl, and anything to keep Rumpelstiltskin on the side of sane and supporting their cause.

"Me, too." Ruby said, cocking a hip.

"And me." August added quickly.

"You two," Emma growled. "Are banned from being on the same team in any mission and you know it."

August stepped down as Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Now, I'll lead, and…"

Snow cut Emma off. "We can't risk you." She said. "The leaders have to stay here."

"What?" Emma sounded like an indignant teenager.

"If you, Snow or James is caught, Regina will have a field day." Francis put in.

"You're the Kennedys of the Enchanted Forest." Ruby put in.

Everybody openly stared at her. She shrugged indignantly.

"Okay, so who all is going?" Emma said. "We have Francis, Ruby…"

"Myself, of course." Rumpelstiltskin said. Nobody argued with him.

"I'll go." Baelfire suggested.

"No!" Emma, Jefferson, and Rumpelstiltskin all shouted at once.

"You are staying here, where you're safe, Bae." Rumpelstiltskin insisted.

"I am not trusting that… that _asshole_ with a mission like this." Emma stated, fire and fight raging in her eyes.

Jefferson just glared. He'd elevated that form of facial expression into high art by this point.

"I think that three should be fine." James said. "More than that and things might get tricky."

"Then it's settled." Rumpelstilskin said. "We'll leave as soon as I'm ready, which is now."

Ruby and Francis looked at each other. A secret mission with the king of sorcery and trickery? What the hell had they just gotten themselves into?

**Things are really heating up, aren't they? I hope that I did Jefferson and Emma justice… they would make such a fantastic couple, but they're so hard to pin down… anyway, leave a review, s'il vous plait; the next chapter will be up soon!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Things get a little intense here… buckle up!**

"The house isn't that big; she has to be around here somewhere." Ruby muttered.

Sneaking into Regina's house hadn't been that difficult. Finding Belle and getting out was another matter.

"It looks like every room is being used for something." Francis said. "Except for…" She paused. "Henry's room. She'll be in Henry's room."

The three of them – Rumpelstiltskin limping slightly – made their way silently down the hall. Francis peered over the banister down to the foyer. A few guards – men she didn't recognize – were standing there, discussing something in low voices. Francis moved on.

They reached Henry's door. Ruby raised her hand to knock but Rumpelstiltskin just raised his hand to the door, muttering something. There was a click as it unlocked and the door swung open.

"You can do magic like that?" Francis asked. "I thought you were only into potions and such."

"I can do small tricks like that. Nothing major." He replied.

Ruby slipped into the room, the others falling in behind her.

Belle lay on the bed, facing the window. With her back to them they couldn't tell if she was asleep or not. Rumpelstiltskin hurried forward, coming around to the other side of the bed and kneeling down. Belle sensed his presence, like a comforting blanket about her shoulders, and she opened her eyes.

"Rum?" She whispered, unsure if she could trust what she was seeing.

"It's okay." He promised her. He rested his hand on her shoulder. "You're safe now."

Belle stretched slowly, blinking. "Regina… she's drugged me. I'm not going to be able to," She yawned. "Walk very fast."

Rumpelstiltskin slipped his hands underneath her body, lifting her bridal-style and cradling her in his arms. Ruby and Francis watched in awe as this fierce man, always so self-preserving and devious, held the younger woman like she was made of glass. His eyes shone with more emotion than either girl had thought he could possibly feel.

"Your leg." Belle protested, even as she looped her arms around his neck. She remembered the time she'd twisted her ankle while cleaning the stairs, slipping on a puddle of soapy water. He'd carried her then, as well, whenever he was feeling particularly manic. But that was when magic had kept him unnaturally strong and banished his limp; now he had only the strength of an ordinary man, and a lame leg to boot.

"It's no matter." He assured her. "I'll get you home safe, Belle. I promise you."

Belle let her head fall against his chest. "You better keep this promise." She mumbled, a spark of her usual self returning for a moment.

Rumpelstiltskin hugged her even closer to him, his eyes soft as he gazed down at her. Then he turned to Ruby and Francis, all business. "We have to get her out of here." He said.

Francis peeked through the door. "There's nobody out there. But we can't go back the way we came in, not with Belle in this state."

"The only way out is the front door." Ruby noted. "And there are guards."

Francis weighed their options. They needed Rumpelstiltskin. He was one of the few people that Regina was afraid of, and he knew more about her than nearly anyone else. To ensure Rumpelstiltskin's loyalty, they needed Belle, who was not only the only person able to control him to some degree but was thoroughly on the side of good. Quite simply, Emma and Co. needed Belle.

They were never going to make it out. Not unless…

"I'll distract them. Sneak her out while they're occupied!" Francis hissed.

Ruby stretched out an arm to stop her but didn't get out more than a strangled "Francis!" before the girl was vaulting over the banister and landing right on top of one of the guards.

"Wow, you guys are easier to get then I thought." Francis mused very loudly. "Up for a game of tag, gentlemen?" She took off down the hall, the guards following.

"Quick! Now!" Rumpelstiltskin hissed. He carried Belle down the stairs, assisted by Ruby, who unlocked the door and helped him out. The front lawn was filled with booby traps that, thanks to his knowledge of both magic and Regina, Rumpelstiltskin helped them to avoid. As soon as they were out on the street they heard a loud cry.

It could only be Francis.

"She's going to die, isn't she?" Ruby asked fearfully.

"Well, I'd say that her chances of survival are not large." Rumpelstilstkin admitted.

Belle stirred in his arms, her grip on him tightening momentarily. "It's okay, Belle. We're almost home." He whispered. Belle mumbled something and buried her head further into his chest.

"Come along, dearie." He said to Ruby. "There's nothing we can do for her now."

Ruby continued to look back at Regina's house as they made their way back, hoping against hope that Francis had made it out.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Francis' brain was pounding so hard she was certain that it was making her skull crack each time it thudded painfully inside her cranium. She half expected her head to burst open and her brain to explode. Well, now she knew what it was like to get knocked out by a sword pommel. It was less than pleasant.

The two guards dragging her along by her upper arms were certainly not helping matters.

"And what do we have here?" Regina smiled, crouching down to look at Francis' face. "Why, it's the little half-Wonderland brat. I believe you threatened to… what was it? Make it so that there wasn't a big enough piece for burial, I believe."

"If you're going to torture me, I'd appreciate it if you got started already." Francis said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, such bravery." Regina cooed sickeningly. Her grin was almost predatory. "I think I have something a little more… special, in mind for you." She stood up and addressed the guards. "Get her standing."

The men hauled Francis to her feet and let go. Francis blinked, trying to stay upright as the room tilted dangerously and a wave of nausea from the blow washed over her. She focused on her breathing and closed her eyes, counting to ten. When she opened them, the room was no longer tilting.

"Such a brave heart." Regina said, her voice low and dangerous. "So courageous, so strong…" She placed the tips of her fingers, claw-like, over Francis' heart. "A heart so full of bravery is a rare thing. It is unfortunate that I'll have to relieve you of it."

There was a strong tug, and then a pull that Francis could not fight, no matter how hard she tried. Slowly, inexorably, her heart was pulled out of her chest and right into Regina's clutching hand. Francis watched, her eyes wide. The thing pulsed and glowed with an unnatural magenta light. Only magic could do that. Regina squeezed the heart experimentally.

Francis sank to her knees as a powerful constriction began in her chest, squeezing her lungs and other organs until she couldn't breathe. She kept her mouth resolutely shut, making no sound as she stared hatefully at the woman above her.

"Let's make sure that such a precious thing is kept safe, shall we?" Regina strode over to her desk, pulling out a drawer and placing the heart carefully inside. "It's not my proper vault, but it will do for now." She looked up to see Francis struggling to her feet.

"You really think that's going to stop me?" Francis demanded. She felt a painful emptiness in her chest, like a chunk of herself, of her very life, was missing. She realized with horror that she was, quite literally, heartless.

"No." Regina said calmly. "You don't care about your life if it's for a noble cause. But what about your dear little wife; Elaine, I think her name is?"

"You leave her out of this." Francis growled.

"Of course!" Regina complied. "I would just hate to see her grief-stricken over your dead body. Watching you die right in front of her – or even in her arms – would be simply traumatizing."

Francis glared.

"I see that I have your attention." Regina smiled. "You see, I could kill you right now. I can do it at any time, actually. One hard squeeze and your heart will crumble to dust. But you wouldn't want to do that to your lovely lady. Besides, you're more useful to me alive. So here's what we're going to do; you are going to give me information, and in return, I won't kill you in front of your precious Elaine."

Francis felt the emptiness in her chest, and the desperate need to fill it. She felt hollow, emptied out and drained of something vital inside of her. She mentally shook herself. Her life was in Regina's hands now, whether she liked it or not. Did that mean that the Evil Queen had also stolen her emotions, or her thoughts and actions?

No.

"I'll do it." Francis spat.

"Good!" Regina looked positively exuberant.

Francis felt sick.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

"She is _not_ dead." Elaine shrieked. "We have to go and find her! And if nobody's going to help me, then I'll just go and find her myself!"

"Elaine, you have to understand," James began, but Elaine pushed past him, heading towards the door.

Jefferson stopped her. He gripped the young woman's shoulders tightly, his dark, brooding gaze boring down on her. "You have to stop." It was practically an order.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Jefferson." Elaine warned him.

"I'm telling you what Francis would want you to do." Jefferson said calmly.

Watching the interaction, Emma was suddenly reminded of the night he'd kidnapped and drugged her. Her frustration, resentment and wariness had been offset by his calm, if slightly off-balance demeanor. Watching Jefferson with Elaine now was a little like déjà vu.

"I have to go after her." Elaine insisted. "I lost her twice; I can't lose her again."

"But she wouldn't want that. She would want you here, and safe." Jefferson reminded her.

"Actually, she wants to sit down and get a drink of water." Croaked the subject of their discussion.

A thoroughly battered and bruised Francis leaned heavily against the doorway. Her clothes were torn and she had a black eye and a bloody lip, along with some minor scrapes. The Queen had decided that if she was supposed to have fought her way out of the house, it had to look realistic. Francis was pretty sure that was just an excuse to get her beaten to a pulp.

Elaine rushed forward, hugging Francis tightly and nearly knocking her over. "Ow, ow, Lanie, careful with the ribs, there." Francis sucked in a hiss of breath at the pain.

Elaine pulled back apologetically. "I'm so sorry!" She said, caressing Francis' face with her hands. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I got my butt kicked and somehow managed to make it here in one piece." Francis stated dully. Jefferson and Elaine helped her to sit in a nearby chair, and the Blue Fairy came forward with a cup of water. Francis sipped it gratefully.

"Well, I'd call that a narrow escape." Rumpelstiltskin came forward. He bowed slightly. "I must admit that I'm impressed you managed to get out."

"Me, too." Francis mumbled.

"I think that we can all go to bed now." Snow said. "We can attend to Francis' wounds." She indicated herself and the Blue Fairy.

"You go on to bed, Elaine." Francis said. "I'll be along in a minute."

Elaine looked doubtful but kissed Francis softly. "Take good care of her." She said warningly to the women. She sent Francis a final look of concern before slipping out to head home.

The minute Elaine had left, Francis pushed Snow aside and stood up. "Listen," She said. "I need a council meeting; now."

Emma frowned. "What's up?" She asked.

"It's… well, it's a long story. I need everyone to hear this so we know what to do." Francis explained.

Within minutes, everyone was assembled from the War Council. Ruby and August both had suspiciously rumbled clothing and messed up hair, but everyone else – aside from those who'd stayed up to calm Elaine down – just looked sleepy or annoyed at having been woken.

"I didn't escape." Francis began. "I didn't fight my way out. The guards overpowered me and took me to Regina. As far as she knows, I am now her spy in your camp."

"How did she mange that? She knows she can't bribe you or anything." Ruby said.

Francis snorted. "She bribed me with my life and Elaine's happiness."

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked.

Francis took a deep breath. "This is going to sound crazy, but… she took my heart out. It's sitting in a drawer, in her desk, right now."

Everybody stared at her.

"Franny, you do realize that sounds a little… well… insane. And that's coming from me." Jefferson said.

"It's the truth, okay?" Francis retorted. "She promised to kill my heart, and therefore me, right in front of Elaine if I didn't do as she ordered."

"She took your heart?" Emma's voice had a strange ring to it.

"Yes." Francis nodded, rubbing her hand over where her heart had once been. "It feels… I can feel it missing. It's like there's an–"

"Like there's an emptiness, a hollowness that you need to fill." Emma intoned. Her voice was soft and far away, but filled with realization.

"Yes. How did you know that?" Francis asked.

"Graham." Emma replied. "That's… oh God, that's how she killed him. Right before he died, he kept talking about how empty he felt, like there was a part of him missing… after the curse broke I thought it had just been him recovering his memories, but it must have been… and she killed him, like he had a heart attack and he just… collapsed… there… on the ground…" Emma trailed off. She could almost see the scene again, fresh and burning into her retinas.

Strong, warm hands slipped over her shoulders, and a strong jaw pressed against her hair. "Emma, come back." Jefferson whispered.

Emma gave a shiver and retreated from the realm of ghosts and guilt. She brought a hand up to grab Jefferson's, clutching until her knuckles stood out, white and bony against her wet paper skin. Today was definitely not her day.

"What do you want us to do about it, dearie?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

"Is there any cure? A way to get it back?" Snow asked.

The Dark One shook his head. "I'm afraid not, your Highness." He said. He always said the title mockingly, but his voice was gentler than usual. "The only way to fix this would be for someone who knows how – preferably Regina, as I don't know and I doubt anyone else does – to put her heart back."

Francis snorted. "Good luck with that."

"What's going on?" A soft voice asked sleepily.

Rumpelstiltskin was up in a flash, crossing the room to where a sleepy and confused Belle stood. Her hair was messy and tangled, like the day she'd been freed from the asylum, but her dress was soft and blue and much nicer than the rags she'd been clothed in then.

"We've had a bit of an issue, Belle, but nothing that we can't handle." He assured her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Belle leaned in; exhaustion lowering her propriety as she instinctively buried herself into him. She loved how he said her name. He never called her 'dearie' or any other pet name – or, at least, he hadn't since their first few days together in his castle. He always called her by her name, like it was the perfect and only thing to describe her, and he would never stoop to giving her a ridiculous name that thousands of other couples used.

"You should go back to bed." He said softly.

Belle sucked in a deep breath through her nose, pulling away and shaking her head. "No, I want to stay. I want to know what's going on."

The one annoying thing about having someone like Rumpelstiltskin in love with her was that he had a tendency to be overly protective.

"All right, then." He said, gently leading her over to the table. Again, Belle demonstrated the aftereffects of the medication by curling up in his lap rather than getting her own chair as she normally would have. She looked rather like a sleepy little kitten, tiny and fragile, clinging to what most people would have described as a snake in human clothing. But Rumpelstiltskin continued to hold her, ignoring Ruby's blatant staring and Grumpy's snickers in favor of returning to the topic at hand.

"The point is, dearie," He said to Francis. "You're at her mercy. Your life is in her hands."

"What?" Belle looked up. "She's going to die?"

"Eventually." Francis grumbled.

"Unless you do as Regina says." James pointed out.

"I'm not spying on you!" Francis shouted. She sank back into her chair. "Sorry; that was the stress talking."

"We're not going to let you die." Jefferson insisted.

"I'm not sure that we have much of a choice." Francis said.

"Unless you give Regina the wrong information." Emma said. She grinned. "This could be just the thing that we need. No offense to your predicament, Francis."

The girl shrugged. "It's okay."

"She doesn't know that you told us the truth." Emma explained. "If you feed her false information, she'll be none the wiser. And you can tell us all that you can about her movements."

"Brilliant." Snow said, smiling proudly at her daughter.

Francis smiled wearily. "Sounds like a plan." She started to get up and winced. "Um, I wasn't kidding about the ass whipping, though. Regina set her goons on me to make my escape look 'realistic'. I think they broke a rib."

"Hey, at least you kept your head." Jefferson pointed out.

Francis rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Real comforting, brother. Really comforting."

About a half hour later, after getting bandaged up, Francis slid into bed next to Elaine. The girl was half-sitting propped up on pillows, as if she were waiting for her wife to come home. She had still fallen prey to sleep and now was so deep in slumber that Francis' maneuverings as she tried to find a way to sleep that didn't hurt never put a dint in her dreaming.

Francis kissed Elaine's forehead. She really should have just let Regina kill her, told her to go to hell and taken her chances with whatever lay beyond the fragile barrier between life and death. But she loved Elaine, and even the possibility of bringing her pain was too much to handle.

"I love you too much, Lanie love." Francis whispered.

She was playing a very dangerous game now – one that she wasn't certain she could win. But she would take her chances. She had to be brave and test the limits, if only for Elaine's sake. Yes, she loved this girl far too much. But at least that love gave her the courage to do what she had to.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

"What did he do to you?"

It was the first time that they were alone that day, and the trumpeting, foot-stomping elephant in the room refused to be ignored any longer. Emma collapsed onto Jefferson's bed.

"He was a jerk to me, as some boyfriends are. It doesn't matter." Emma said, hoping that he'd drop the subject.

But Jefferson could see through her bullshit the way she could see through everyone else's. Emma could sniff out a lie a mile away, but she herself was pretty damn good at them until he came along and saw things in her that she couldn't even see in herself. He dropped onto the bed next to her, not touching or saying anything, just watching her.

"There's more to it." She didn't reply. "Emma…" He whispered.

Emma groaned. "You're not going to give up until I tell you everything, are you?"

Jefferson gave her his I'm-crazy-and-there's-nothing-you-can-do-about-it grin. Emma glared half-heartedly at him for approximately thirty seconds before giving in.

"Ugh. Fine." She took a deep breath. "I was eighteen, working in a 24-hour diner, and I was young and stupid. I'm generally stupid, but I was young, too, so double-whammy. Anyway, handsome older guy, sweeps said idiotic girl off her feet, starts treating her badly, etc. Girl gets pregnant, girl tells boyfriend, boyfriend hits girl, freaks out, and runs off. End of story."

"I'm surprised you didn't start with 'once upon a time'." Jefferson joked.

Emma glared at him again before switching to stare exhaustedly at the ceiling. Jefferson reached out, pulling her up so that she had to crawl backwards until they were resting against the (absurd, in Emma's mind) amount of pillows, Emma's back against his chest and her head against his cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and she played idly with his fingers, running the pads of her fingers over his own calloused ones.

"Did you know that Gold – Rumpelstiltskin – actually tried to apologize to me? Apologize. To me." Emma said incredulously. Ever the skeptic, his Emma. "He said that whatever Bae did was his fault, that he'd failed him and…" She stopped, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. Whatever kind of example he showed Bae, I'm sure it wasn't a good one, but it doesn't take away the responsibility. He treated me like that, and he is in charge of his own actions. You can't blame your parents for your bad decisions."

"Is that why you didn't blame yours?" Jefferson asked.

Anyone else would have gotten a glare, but he had a way of getting information out of her that she either didn't mean to reveal, or wouldn't have revealed to anyone else.

"It was hard, sure, but I tried. They meant well. I still felt angry but I knew it was wrong, so I did my best. It wasn't easy, but I think we're in a good place now." Emma admitted.

"He's never going to touch you again." Jefferson promised her. The dark, edgy undercurrent, the one he'd had when they'd first met, was back in his voice. Before, it had made Emma feel on edge, but now it was comforting. She'd never allow anyone to fight her battles for her, but knowing that he would if he could was a luxury she hadn't previously been able to afford.

"I know." Emma replied, trying to soothe him. "I know. And I'm not that girl anymore. I'm almost as stupid, sure, but I've got more experience. I can handle him."

Jefferson didn't say anything, only holding her tighter.

Before Storybrooke, before Henry and the curse and everything, Emma never would have allowed something like this. She was a friends-with-benefits kind of girl at the most, and a one-night-stand person most of the time. Perhaps that was the reason she hadn't gotten laid in two years before she arrived in this not-so-little little town. But of all people, the one whose sanity was the most in doubt, the one who was the opposite of her in almost every way, was the one who'd slipped in through the chinks in her armor, getting under her skin and burrowing in deep until he was as much a part of her as the air she breathed or the blood in her veins. His absolute convictions and beliefs balanced out her hearty skepticism and occasionally crippling common sense, and he allowed her to let go and be a little crazy (be that tea parties with him and the kids or ferocious arguments that made the house shake… or sex that made the house shake…). With him, she was special, and not just because she was the 'savior'. She was Emma, and Emma Swan was, for some insane, unknown reason, incredibly special to him. He worried, so that she didn't have to. He dirtied his hands on secret missions, often going behind her back with the others (oh, how she hated that) so that she could remain the pure, honest leader everyone loved her for being. He stayed at her side through every bad mood, every fit of despair, every episode of disbelief where she thought that maybe she was just crazy and hallucinating the entire thing, and he never, ever made her feel invalidated.

How was it that the borderline psycho one of the group was the one that was keeping her sane?

At some point her musings led her gently down the sloping path to sleep, and she slipped away into dreamland. As always, Jefferson stayed awake far longer than she did – insomnia had been a side effect of Regina's personal punishment for him, and it still took him a while to get to sleep – watching over her, holding her, and making deals in his head with whatever god in whatever world would listen that he would do whatever they wanted, if she would be safe.

**Yup. I went there with the heart thing. And I'm not sorry.**


	12. Chapter 12

**You all still with me? Okay…**

Francis finished tugging on her boot when she heard the knock at the door. She frowned. She wasn't expecting any visitors.

"Come in!" She called.

The door opened and Belle stepped in. She was wearing a yellow skirt and a white blouse, her hair curled and tumbling loose about her shoulders save for a yellow headband keeping the locks out of her face.

"If I wasn't madly in love with another woman, Belle, I'd definitely consider braving Rumpelstiltskin's wrath." Francis joked.

Belle smiled. "Thanks." She blushed. "I know that you have to report to Regina, but do you have a moment?"

"Sure." Francis said. She indicated the bed. "You can sit, if you'd like."

Belle flopped onto the bed with surprising casualness. "I just wanted to let you know that you're not alone."

"Alone in what? Being manipulated or screwed over by Regina? Sometimes I think that's the only thing all of us have in common." Francis said. Her tone was light but her eyes were dark, her mouth set in a grim line.

"I mean about the… the…" Belle tapped her heart.

Francis swallowed. "Did you take yours, too?"

Belle shook her head, giving a sad little smile. "She tried." She said quietly, gently. She unbuttoned the blouse, parting it just enough to reveal an angry red scar, a patch of tissue that was a splotch in the middle but had a few tendrils of red spreading out. It looked like the center of a spider's web, or the imprint of an octopus.

"That's what she left?" Francis asked. "I don't have anything like that."

"She succeeded with you." Belle said.

"What happened?"

The beauty sighed, buttoning her shirt up again. "When she reached her hand into my chest… it was violating. She could have ordered me raped and it wouldn't have stripped me, torn me apart inside the way that did. It was like she had a grip on my very soul. But when she tried to pull it out, she couldn't. It just wouldn't move. She became furious, demanding to know why she couldn't have my heart.

"And then I realized… it was because my heart wasn't mine anymore. It belonged to someone else, now."

"Rumpelstiltskin." Francis said.

Belle nodded. "She has a massive collection – in this vault in her castle. I'm not sure where it is in this world, but I'm sure it exists in some form. Shelves and shelves of hearts… I'm certain the only reason she didn't take your mother's was that she could simply use you and your sisters as collateral instead."

"But – but if True Love kept your heart safe from Regina, then why didn't it help me?" Francis asked desperately. "I love Elaine, and forgive me if I sound selfish or conceited but I know that it's True Love. Why didn't it protect me?"

Belle shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't know."

Francis frowned, her mind whirling. "What… what were you thinking about when Regina had you?"

Belle thought for a moment, tilting her head contemplatively. "All I could really think about – all that occupied my mind those years in her grip – was Rum." Francis noted the nickname, but let it slide. "Even when she was trying to go for my heart, I kept thinking about how angry I'd been when we'd parted ways, and how I wished I could take it all back. I hoped that he would never know what had happened to me, because I didn't want him to be upset or do something stupid. He can be rather rash when it comes to things he cares about, you know, like his son or his power."

"Or you." Francis added, unable to keep herself from gently teasing the beauty. Belle blushed.

"I just couldn't help but think… if only I had a second chance. I'd tell him I loved him, and I'd do it right this time. That was what I was thinking about."

Francis nodded, having received the answer she'd sought. "That explains it, then."

"Explains what?"

"Why it protected you and not me." Francis sighed. "When Regina had me, I'll admit… I wasn't thinking about Elaine. I wasn't thinking about anything or anyone, other than how much I hated Regina. I wanted to kill her for all that she'd done to hurt people – the royals I'd sworn to serve and protect, and the family that I loved beyond anything. I wouldn't be surprised if she tipped Elaine's father off to who I really was, just for shits and giggles. I was angry, and I was filled with hate. I was as far from love in those moments as you can get.

"You didn't just have True Love, Belle. You called upon it in those moments, whether you knew it or not. It's like True Love's Kiss – it can break any spell, but you have to be ready for it. You have to accept it. You focused on True Love, carried it like a shield, and it protected you as only it can, because it is the only thing that can trump any form of magic. Regina couldn't hurt you when you were like that.

But I didn't call on it. I didn't think about it or focus on Elaine or anything. I let myself play her game and gave into hatred just like she did for God knows what reason, and it cost me my heart."

Francis could hardly hold on to the tears of anger. Anger at her stupidity, at her failure towards Elaine and herself, at the emptiness constantly plaguing her every minute of the day. Belle stood and placed a tender hand on her shoulder.

"You have done more than anyone could ever ask of someone your age." Belle spoke quietly, but firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "You are more brave than most, to double-cross Regina like this. Many would simply comply with her wishes to save themselves, or even commit suicide to avoid betraying their friends; but you continue to fight for us. I have nothing but respect for you for that. Don't berate yourself for your actions – stronger, wiser men than you have fallen prey to hate, and Regina certainly makes it easy."

"I'm pretty sure that last compliment was backhanded." Francis tried to joke, but it came out as a kind of strangled sob. She sniffed, swallowing hard, and stood up ramrod straight. "Thank you, Belle. You really are worthy of your name."

Belle looked confused. Francis rolled her eyes, smiling genuinely for the first time since she'd returned from Regina's.

"You have a beautiful spirit. I'm surprised that Regina's hand didn't burn from touching a heart so pure."

Belle laughed, full golden notes that bubbled up from her chest, floating like iridescent bubbles before popping and filling the air like the ringing of clear, silver bells. Only Elaine's uncontrollable giggles were a more lovely sound to Francis' ears. "You flatter me." Belle insisted. "But thank you."

"No, thank you." Francis said solemnly. "You really have helped me. I feel much better now."

"Anything I can do for a friend." Belle replied earnestly. "Good luck on your mission."

"Thank you." Francis bowed. Belle laughed again, and then showed herself out of the room.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Three weeks and two days." Regina stated. She ceased her languid pacing and rounded on the person standing resolutely in front of her. "Three weeks and two days was what it took to figure out your deception. I'd applaud your success, but you tricked me and that, I'm afraid, buys you a one-way ticket to a meeting with your Maker."

Francis rolled her eyes. Was the woman ever _not_ dramatic?

The slap came so fast that Francis couldn't block it, her eyes filling with tears. It stung so much that her cheek felt cold as the contact stunned her nerves.

"Don't disrespect me." Regina hissed.

"Maybe I wouldn't if you'd done something worthy of my respect." Francis shot back.

Regina threw her magically against the wall, pinning her there. "I could choke the life out of you right now." She said. "But where would be the fun in that?"

Francis glared, twisting and pushing to escape the magical grip, but failing as she had before. Regina gave a twisted smile. "I think I'll make an example out of you." She said. "I wonder how our dear Sheriff will feel to see her brave little knight die just like her would-be lover?"

"You're a heartless bitch." Francis spat.

Regina nodded. "You're quite right – I am. My heart was crushed years ago, thanks to your pathetic Snow White. Her conscience doesn't match her name, believe _me_." She released Francis, who tumbled to the floor.

"Lock her up." Regina said, not even looking at Francis. "And prepare an announcement. I want everyone to see what happens to people who try to cross me."

The soldiers dragged Francis away, kicking and struggling, while Regina looked on and smiled.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

"She should be back by now." Elaine said. "Where is she?"

"Maybe she got waylaid." Archie said comfortingly. Half of them were still calling him "Doc" or "Archie", while the other half was calling him "Jiminy". The man seemed quite happy with whatever title people wanted to give him.

Emma shared a grim look with her parents. Francis had been successfully double-crossing Regina for about three weeks now, but it wouldn't take much to tip off the suspicious and conniving Evil Queen.

Their fears were confirmed when Ruby and August burst into the room, both panting ferociously.

"She's got her." Ruby gasped. "She's figured it out… at dawn…"

"What?" Emma asked. "Breathe, guys, what's going on?"

"She figured out what Francis was up to." August said, leaning heavily against the wall. "And she's going to publicly execute her at dawn in front of the Town Hall."

Elaine's entire face paled to the point where everyone could see each vein standing out against her skin, and she fainted.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Okay, are we all decided?"

"No, we are _not_ decided. Emma, you can't go."

"I am going and that is final. You can't tell me what I can and can't do!"

"I'm not letting you risk your life like this!"

"I risk my life every fucking day, Jefferson, it's kind of a routine by now!"

"But not like this. Regina's going to expect something like this, and she's going to be prepared. You'll walk into a trap."

"We don't know that! And in case you've forgotten, that's your sister who's ass we're saving so you might want to be a bit more concerned about her!"

"I am concerned, damn it! But I don't want to lose you, either!"

"Well you're not _going_ to! I'm not a fucking child!"

"No, you're just reckless!"

Everyone else in the room watched the argument, not daring to step in or say anything. When Emma and Jefferson got this heated, one of them shouting with frustration and pent-up emotion and the other with a voice quiet and rough and dark, you interfered at your own risk.

"She's my knight, Jefferson. She swore allegiance to my parents and their children, which unless Snow's got a bun in the oven means me. That means that I am responsible for giving her orders and her personal safety when she's carrying out those orders. I told her to do this, and so it's my fault she's caught. I have to fix this. This is my mess, not yours or anybody else's. Mine."

"For fuck's sake, Emma, you don't have to save everyone! You can't do everything! Let someone else go, please!"

"I am going, and that's final."

They stared at each other. Emma's chest was heaving, her face hard and her eyes blazing and focused like a laser on Jefferson who, for his part, was as still as a statue, his eyes dark and unfathomable. The tension in the room rose several notches, and not all of it was angry.

"Perhaps you two should work this out privately." Belle suggested. She gently put a hand on each of their backs and steered them towards the door. "We'll work out the details of the operation while you discuss Emma's involvement."

Emma looked at everyone else. Her own mother wouldn't meet her eyes, staring uncomfortably at the floor and shifting her feet. The queen was remembering some pretty intense fights she'd had with James, and the stuff they'd done afterwards was making her entire face as scarlet as her red-as-blood lips.

Seeing that their spat was making everyone else uncomfortable, to say the least, Emma complied and followed Jefferson out the door. The drive back to the house – while, officially, she was still at Snow's apartment, she spent so much time at Jefferson's that she was beginning to think of it as 'theirs – was silent, the air thick and stuffed with things unsaid.

Neither said a word until they crossed the threshold of the house and shut the door behind them. Then Jefferson was on her, pressing her back into the wall, shoving his leg between her thighs and planting his hands on either side of her face.

"I… can't… lose… you." He said. His voice was raw and hoarse, like when he'd talked to Emma about Grace for the first time. "I can't, Emma. The very thought makes me mad, and I know that doesn't sound like much but _gods_ if I lost you, I don't…" He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "I can't do it. I couldn't handle it."

Emma chuckled, but it was a weak thing, choked with tears and tension and resigned anger. "It's not a choice we get to make, Jefferson. We're in a _war_. I'm surprised that we've managed to last this long." She leaned into him anyway, her body drawn to him like a magnet.

"It's my responsibility." She breathed. "I can't avoid it, even if I wanted to. I have to do this, and I'm going to have to do other things in the future. You can't expect me to sit quietly and let you slip around doing dirty work behind my back and then refuse to let me actually take charge sometimes."

"Just… promise me that you won't be stupid."

Emma gave him a look.

"I mean that I don't want you to be reckless. When you think you have an opportunity to nab someone, you do it, without thinking. You act before you think, and while it's one of the things I love about you it'll get you killed if you do it tomorrow. Promise me that you'll think before you do anything. Promise me that you'll stick to the plan as much as possible."

Jefferson's eyes were as light as it was possible for them to be, shining and clear, devoid for once of any madness or the ever-present darkness that haunted his mind. Only Emma could chase his demons away. She had a glimpse of what he must have looked like before Regina's trickery and imprisonment in Wonderland, his face now open and guileless in front of her, his eyes shining and soft. He was laid bare before her, begging her to listen to him.

"Okay." She whispered. "I'll try."

He kissed her, literally stealing the breath from her lungs. She hadn't thought that was previously possible. A tiny voice in her brain warned her that they were probably going to have evidence of their lovemaking all over them when they went back to the Sheriff's office to meet the others, but the larger, more insistent part of her didn't care. There was still residual frustration and resentment coursing through them, and Jefferson's whispered "I love you"s were growled, filled with anger at her lack of understanding and her recklessness and his own helplessness.

Sometimes they hated how much they needed each other; how they couldn't control these emotions and feelings or even their current situation. They hated how cruel fate was, dealing them a shitty hand and then giving them this love that they couldn't even fully appreciate because they were constantly pulled apart, struggling in a war that they weren't sure they could win. And they hated the unceasing fear that no matter what they did, they would lose each other, and that the moments they had together would never be enough.

But sometimes, when they were knocking over lamps and not even bothering to stumble up the stairs to the bedroom, Emma didn't mind. Sometimes she liked to completely lose herself in the torrent of emotion and sensation, not struggling to keep afloat but rather let it drown her for a minute or two, surround her and fill her lungs and her blood and her very soul.

Their angry sex was always the best, anyway.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Between James, Mulan, and the other princes' military knowledge and Rumpelstiltskin's know-how of Regina and magic, they managed to hammer out a pretty good plan within the next hour.

It was Belle, actually, who'd surprised everyone by coming up with the idea that they went with.

"She's giving us a show." Belle explained from her perch on Rumpelstiltskin's knee. Since the kidnapping incident she'd been much more comfortable with showing her affection, seeing as everyone didn't pitch a fit when she'd curled up in his lap afterwards. "She wants to strike fear into everyone, to make them think that they can't possibly succeed."

Nobody needed to ask where Belle was getting her knowledge of Regina's tactics. The woman had tried everything to convince Belle that all hope was lost, that Rumpelstiltskin had rejected her because he hated her, not out of fear. The Evil Queen had even tried conjuring a few illusions. But Belle had remained steadfast, clinging to what she knew in her heart to be true, and that unshakeable faith had been strong enough to partially carry over into Storybrooke, giving her a conviction that somewhere, someone was searching for her. It had given her a faceless man that haunted her every dream, and the fact that even a hint of her memories had managed to cling to her mind, even in such a distorted form, was proof above all else that the beauty and the beast had True Love.

"So we need to give her a show in return." Belle explained. "Regina will be expecting a rescue attempt beforehand, but I doubt she'll be expecting one during the actual event. If we steal Francis right out from under her nose, in front of everyone, then it will show that we're not afraid. That we can snub the Evil Queen in public without fear."

"She'll be furious." Snow said slowly.

"I know! Isn't it marvelous?" Rumpelstiltskin said with glee, his voice taking on that maniacal quality from back in the Enchanted Forest.

The rest of the plan had been easy to construct from there. At one point, the children had even helped. Grace had wanted to elicit a promise from the adults that her aunt would be safe, and Gretel had accompanied her. The two girls had quickly become inseparable since the curse had been lifted. Hansel went wherever his older sister went out of habit from their parentless days, and Henry went wherever Gretel went because he had a crush on her the size of the Enchanted Forest. (Everyone found it amusing, especially because Emma had no idea how to deal with it, forcing the boy to go to Jefferson and James for advice. He'd tried Doc Hopper but the poor man had only stuttered and been no help at all.)

They were just putting the finishing touches on when Emma and Jefferson returned. Emma's hair was tied back, which saved her having to re-do it but showed the absurd amount of purple-blue-black patches on her throat, collarbone, and behind her ear. Jefferson's hair managed to look as done up as usual, but both individuals had rumpled clothing and Jefferson's ever-present scarf was askew. Both had rather puffy, red lips and it was lucky that Jefferson always wore a scarf (askew or not) because otherwise everyone would have been able to see that he had just as many hickeys as Emma did.

Nobody dared say anything as Emma began to ask questions about the plan, although the eyes of the four kids went round and wide. Peter and his Lost Boys (who, apparently, made up about half of the junior high-age boys in the town) all looked like they wanted to say something snarky, as did August, but they were smart enough to keep silent. Ruby just smelled the extra pheromones in the air and smirked.

Emma finished going over the plan and nodded her approval. "This sounds good to me." She said. "Nice idea, Belle."

The brunette blushed, as she always did when confronted with praise.

"All right." Emma said, pushing herself up from the table and placing her hand on the sword at her hip, a gesture that had become automatic as time went on. "Let's get moving."

::::::::::::::::::::::::

The platform had been erected so quickly that it had to have been built by magic. It was sturdy, made of wood, and tall enough that everyone in the town square had a good view. There was a magical barrier, about six feet high, surrounding the scaffold, stopping anyone from getting too close. It still fell a few feet short of the platform's height, but it was enough to discourage anyone in the crowd trying to interfere.

Regina stood triumphantly, wearing a typical outfit – an elaborate haute couture number that screamed 'evil'. She'd grown fond of the expertly tailored business suits she'd worn during the curse, but for special occasions such as this, she'd decided that one of her more classical looks would work best. She'd even magically grown her hair out into the crazily thick curled locks she used to have. Although she'd probably cut them off once this was over – it was summer and they were in the middle of quite a heat wave.

Francis stood in the jeans and t-shirt she'd been wearing before, with the one difference being a bright red 'S' painted on the front of the shirt. So far, nobody on either side had managed to find any traditional armor; so contemporary clothes were still generally worn, even for battle. It made movement easier, but injuries were a bitch. The girl's blonde hair was pulled back so that everyone could see her face, which was currently sporting a black eye, bloody nose and swollen lip.

Regina began a long speech about traitors and spies and punishment and all the rest, but Francis didn't listen. She was too busy searching the crowd, trying to find the one face that mattered. After a minute of looking, she found her.

Elaine was wearing a white dress, her silver necklace displayed prominently. Her eyes were red from crying and she had shining streams on her cheeks, like acid dripped into her skin, marking her grief for all to see. She was standing with Jefferson, who was staring steadily at Francis, his expression unreadable. Grace was there too, holding his hand, Henry, Hansel, and Gretel crowding around like penguins in a winter storm, offering one another support. Francis spared Jefferson a look and a small smile. He nodded at her, but she was unsure what he was trying to convey. She locked eyes with Elaine.

Tears filled up the girl's eyes anew, but Francis shook her head minutely. _Don't cry._ She thought. _Don't cry, Lanie._

Regina finally finished her speech and pulled out a small wooden box from somewhere in the folds of her dress. She held it out for all to see and carefully opened the lid, pulling out what was inside and holding it up so that everyone's eyes were drawn to it.

Francis' heart pulsed, glowing magenta in the sun, beating frantically as if trying to pump its way right out of the queen's hand.

There was the metallic hiss as two swords were slid out of their scabbards, and the muffled grunts of the guards on either side of the platform as they slumped forward, dead. The crowd collectively gasped as James and Emma stepped forward, their swords pointed at Regina's neck.

"Put it back." Emma said, her voice hard.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Regina said, smiling.

"Put. It. Back." Emma repeated, stepping a little closer.

In response, Regina squeezed the heart in her hand. Francis sank to her knees, her breath wheezing out of her, her entire body stiffening. Elaine gave a cry and tried to dash forward but Jefferson held her back.

"You can't do anything to me." Regina said. "Not while I've got her heart in my hands… literally."

"It's okay." Francis managed to croak. "You tried…"

Regina gripped the heart a little tighter. Francis could hardly draw breath, feeling like she might actually begin to crack like a china doll from the pressure seizing her insides.

"Regina, I am warning you," Emma said. "Put that heart back in her body or I swear I will take your head off here and now."

Regina clucked her tongue. "You want me to reunite her heart and body, do you?" She asked. "Well there's only one way to do that, I'm afraid." She clutched the heart even tighter.

"Elaine…" Francis forced the word out by sheer willpower.

"Francis!" Elaine struggled and twisted like a snake.

"Listen to me, Lanie." Francis was whispering now, regular speaking volume too much effort for her to manage. Yet, somehow, everyone was able to hear her.

"You see, I never learned how to put a heart back in the body. I didn't see a reason to." Regina explained. "So if you want me to put it _back_…"

"I love you, Elaine. I did this so you would be safe." Francis kept her eyes locked on Elaine's, blue into brown. "I love you too much."

"No…" Elaine was sobbing and moaning, still fighting to escape Jefferson's iron grip. Grace trembled, burying her face into Gretel's shoulder, the other three all hugging the girl and shielding her so she wouldn't have to see her aunt's fate.

"Oh, I'll put it back all right." Regina's grin was like a vicious cat. She squeezed the heart in earnest now.

Everyone watched in horror as Francis' body seized up, stiffening, freezing into that one position as Regina's hand wrung every last bit of life from her heart, the magenta light fading until it was a tiny, dark lump and then crumbling away into dust.

The moment it did so, Francis collapsed onto the ground.

Elaine screamed, finally wrenching herself from Jefferson and running head-on into the magical barrier, pounding on it with her fists, screaming nonsensically. Jefferson rushed forward, trying to pull her back.

Emma stared at Francis' body, the flashbacks plaguing her and making her immobile. It was exactly, exactly like Graham's death, and she knew for certain that it was all of her fault, and now Francis' death was her fault as well, and she could hardly breathe and…

"Emma!"

James had leapt over the barrier without thinking, just as the plan had dictated, not checking to see if his daughter was with him but assuming she was. But Emma was still there, frozen, staring at Francis' body.

"Oh, did I stir up painful memories?" Regina asked. She had descended from the scaffold at some point, although Emma couldn't remember when. "So sorry about that." She snapped her fingers.

The platform collapse, taking Emma with it as it fell. She landed painfully on top of broken boards and wooden poles, definitely a little bruised. She groaned.

Regina walked over, towering above the woman lying prone and exposed on the pile of rubble. "You always fail to save those you care about." The Evil Queen said quietly, and Emma had a feeling that she wasn't talking just about her. For a moment, a look of pained sadness stole over Regina's features. But then the moment passed, and the queen was once again in control of herself. "Another entry for your long list of mistakes, hmm? That girl was just the appetizer." She raised her hand. "Now it's your turn."

Jefferson shoved Elaine back and away from him. "Stay out of the way." He warned, setting his hat on the ground. He spun it, opening the portal, and jumped in.

"Daddy!" Grace screamed.

Emma could hardly move, her body stiff and sore from the fall. Regina lifted her magically, up in the air, as an invisible force gripped Emma's neck.

"The… Darth Vader… choke hold?" Emma gasped. "Really?"

Regina's smile turned into a snarl. "You little–"

The portal reopened next to Regina and Jefferson stumbled out, wasting no time in tackling her. The pressure on Emma's neck vanished, as did the force keeping her in the air, and she tumbled back to the ground. James and Snow – indeed, nearly everyone – rushed forward, but the magical barrier held, preventing them from helping. Regina and Jefferson both scrambled to their feet, glaring at each other.

"I should've killed you." Regina snarled.

"Likewise." Jefferson said cuttingly.

Emma struggled to her feet, every muscle in her body screaming in protest at having to move. She staggered a little but managed to stay relatively upright.

"Move out of the way or I will finish what I started." Regina warned him. "You want to leave Grace without a father?"

"You already did that once, remember?" Jefferson replied. "You are not getting to Emma."

"Fine." Regina shrugged. "Have it your way." She flung Jefferson to the side with her magic, not even looking to see where he landed. Where he landed happened to be the side of the town hall's brick wall, his head making a sickening thud before he crumpled to the ground.

"Jefferson!" Emma tried to scream, but it came out as a groan.

Regina paused, her lip curling. "Oh, don't tell me you like _him_. Are you kidding me?"

"Shut up." Emma snarled. She flung her sword with all of her might.

Regina vanished with magic, but she'd been caught by surprise and wasn't quite quick enough. When she reappeared on Emma's other side, she brought a hand to her cheek. A thin trickle of blood ran down her face from the cut just below her eye. Regina looked at the blood on her fingers in disbelief. "Well I'll be damned." She muttered, a tinge of fear working its way into her system.

Emma half ran, half stumbled over to Jefferson, picking up her sword along the way. She got on her knees, hauling his body onto her lap and turning him over. He had a nasty bruise on the side of his head, and a bit of blood matting his hair.

"No…" Emma groaned. This had all gone so wrong, so terribly, terribly wrong. She clutched at him, holding him as tightly as she could.

Behind Regina, the magical barrier flickered as her energy drained from it, refocusing into her body as she prepared to hurl a ball of magical energy at Emma's crouching form. She seemed oblivious to the fading strength of the barrier.

"Come on, come on!" Emma said, shaking Jefferson a little. "You survived a telescope bashing you and a two-story fall into some bushes, damn it! Wake up! Wake the fuck up, Jefferson, please!"

Regina raised her arm, her fingers extended at Emma's back. The barrier flickered once, twice, three times, and vanished.

The crowd, led by Snow and James, surged forward. Regina turned just in time to block James' sword as it came swishing down towards her chest and vanished in a cloud of black smoke, reappearing in the safety of her barricaded home.

Emma could have cared less what else was going on, her senses narrowing until the only thing she could focus on was the man in her arms, the one she was determined not to lose.

"You have to come back." She whispered, beginning to cry. "You don't understand, I don't have happy endings. I either get the jerks or the assholes, and the one good guy I had died on me so I refuse, I refuse to let you go. I started to hope, damn it, and I'm not letting Fate or God or whatever fucking crap who thinks he's in charge of the universe take you away from me. You hear me, Jefferson? You wake up and haul yourself back to this world because so help me, I can't do this alone. I can't… I can't be alone anymore. Please…" She choked on her own words as they jumbled around her mouth, streaming out of her throat in such numbers that they jammed up until she couldn't say anything at all. She swallowed several times before she could breathe again, let alone speak.

"I know you never believed me when I said it, and maybe I didn't mean it then but I do, I do now." Emma said. "I love you. I love you, possible madness and all, I really do, and I don't care who knows it as long as you just _come back to me_."

Sobbing quietly, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Of course, Fate had a twisted sense of humor. Either that or kissing foreheads was Emma's thing, or Jefferson had been awake for part of her speech and was just waiting for those three special words, or _something_, because that was the moment that he woke up.

Emma was sure she could hear God laughing at her. He'd probably fallen off his fucking golden throne, absolutely tickled pink at the irony. But it was more than that. It was like… a tingling sensation was the closest feeling to what happened to her. A strange energy filled her, making her skin prickle, and when she pressed her lips to his skin, her mouth burned. When she pulled back the feeling was gone, but she could still sense it – in Jefferson. She had transferred it to him somehow, she was sure of it.

Jefferson croaked something, probably an apology or a warning. Always concerned for her safety. Emma placed a finger over his lips.

"It's okay." She said. "We're okay."

"Emma…" He whispered. "You did magic."

She had magic?

Shaking away such thoughts until a more convenient time, she helped him up, grateful that there didn't appear to be any brain or spinal damage. He leaned heavily on her, though, walking slowly. The crowd of townsfolk were gathered in a circle around something, but parted as the two of them made their way through. They stopped when they got to what everyone was staring at.

Elaine was holding onto Francis, sobbing, much like Emma had been with Jefferson a moment ago. But unlike Emma, Elaine did not bother to plead or bargain. She knew it was too late. So she held her love in her arms, crying, rocking the dead body softly.

There were a lot of things to take care of. There was Regina, of course, but the whole Baelfire situation still hadn't really been faced (with everyone agreeing that Emma and Bae both had a lot of explaining to do), and now, apparently, she had magic, which was just dandy. But all of that could wait. Now… now, they had to honor the girl whose body lay in front of them now; the girl who sacrificed herself for her cause and her friends and family; the girl who had always put those she loved above herself.

Surely the forces of fate could wait a moment and grant them that.

**Oops, looks like I killed off an OC again. I tend to do that. Anyway, here are some tissues for the feels, and I'm sorry if I made you guys mad! Don't kill me! *hides from pitchfork-toting readers***


	13. Chapter 13

**Final chapter! I always like to have a bit of an epilogue, y'know, to give the characters and the readers some absolution. The calm after the storm, so to speak.**

It didn't rain the day of the funeral. The sky wasn't cloudy and gray but rather sunny and warm, the air still but not unpleasantly so.

"She would have loved a day like this." Elaine said quietly.

Jefferson nodded in agreement, and his grip on Emma's hand tightened slightly. Ever since 'the incident', as everyone was calling it, their savior was much more open about showing affection – such as handholding – with her kind-of-mad hatter.

Emma stepped forward and cleared her throat. "Thank you all for coming." She said. At least half of the town had turned out. Some, admittedly, out of morbid curiosity. Others because they had seen Francis' heroic behavior as she faced her death, and wanted to pay their respects despite not knowing a thing about her.

"I, uh, didn't know Francis as well as I wanted to. She was always the first to volunteer on missions, and stopped at nothing to take care of her family. She was nothing but supportive towards me." Emma paused. "So, um, I'm going to let those who knew her better, and for longer, speak now." She stepped off the podium.

Snow was next. "I knew Francis when we were much younger." She smiled, remembering those days – the days before she understood what she'd done to Regina and seen the hate the woman harbored. Those days she'd still been innocent as the driven snow. She'd still been happy, then, the shadows of guilt and hate not yet present in her life. She recalled those days with more than a little sadness.

"Franny and I… well, I'll admit it; we teased her sister Alice shamefully. I'm pretty sure we gave that girl more trouble than she deserved." The corners of her mouth tugged upwards a little. "I didn't see her again until she was much older, fuming in a dungeon and accused of being a witch."

Elaine recalled those terrible days. She had been certain that her love was lost, but clung fiercely to the hope that there was help on the way. She could just imagine Francis pacing the cell, muttering curses against the emperor.

"In gratitude for helping to free her and Elaine, she pledged her undying loyalty. And, despite a few hiccups," Jefferson did not look a bit abashed "She did just that. She was the most hardworking, brave, loyal person I ever knew. She truly put others above ourselves, and I still don't know what we did to deserve such a person. But there it is.

"So thank you, Francis, for everything that you did for us. You went above and beyond your pledge."

Snow stepped down, sniffling. James was next.

"I didn't know Francis until that night when we sprung her out of jail – in fact, I didn't even know Elaine. My twin brother did."

The tale of the Shepherd Boy and his rise to become prince was one that was now quite well known, James having made a clean breast of it once they'd gathered their allies to take back their kingdoms from King George and Queen Regina, back in the Enchanted Forest.

"But Elaine didn't know any of that. All she knew was a kind, honorable boy that she'd played with as a child; one that she'd heard had grown into a kind, honorable young man with quite the monster-slaying reputation. She wrote to him, or the person she thought was him, begging for him to help rescue her true love, who was destined to die at her kingdom's annual winter fair.

"Well, Snow and I decided that we couldn't ignore a cry for help, even if I didn't know this girl. So we went. When I met Francis I have to admit that I was surprised but she quickly proved her mettle. She was always the person who would sneak into the enemy camp, finding out information and, more often than not, sabotaging something as well. She was the boldest person I've ever met, and she was just plain brilliant with a sword.

"She was, in short, an amazing knight, and one that I was proud to consider among my personal guard. I'll miss her presence in battle greatly."

James bowed to the coffin before stepping down. Jefferson was next. Unlike the previous speeches, he spoke to Francis' coffin and spirit directly.

"There's too much I want to say to cram it all into one speech, sis." He said. "But the fact that I call you sister should say a lot. When I first met you, you were Alice's annoying little shadow, running around and interrupting me every time I tried to kiss her. I swear you had a sixth sense for that.

"But in time I grew to actually like you. I know, I must be mad. And when Alice died… we were there for each other. You never blamed me, and you supported me. It would have been a lot worse without you. And you've always fought for me. Maybe you felt you had to, after all the times you came running to me for advice – great practice for when I had Grace, by the way – but whatever the reason, you were there. You faced down a crazy crowd and your own liege lords for me. You always said how I helped you out; that I was your support. Truth was you supported me for a long time. I'll miss you, little sister."

Elaine moved to step up, but Rumpelstiltskin darted ahead of her. Belle sighed and rolled her eyes good naturedly, giving Elaine a sympathetic look.

"I just wanted to say that this girl here was smarter than a good ninety percent of you." The man grinned, all teeth. "She actually had the brains to _read the bloody contract_. For that, and a couple of other things, I respected her. Liked her," Here he chuckled. "Far from it. Respected her, no matter how grudgingly… yes."

He stepped down, bowing to Elaine. "It's all yours, dearie." He said. She might have been imagining it, but his eyes seemed to soften for a bare moment before he moved past her. Belle gave him a light smack on the chest and chastised him for interrupting, but Elaine felt a bit lighter. Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One himself, had respected Francis. Elaine smiled a little inside. Only Francis could have managed something like that by being her stubborn self.

When she got up onto the podium, she was surprised to feel the stares of the crowd fade away. She stared at the coffin, that solemn wooden box filled with what had once been her wife, her protector, and her best friend. The words rolled off of her with surprising ease as they tumbled out, the thoughts coming almost faster than she could say them. Everything that she should have said, everything that she never remembered or had time to say, had to be said now.

"In life, we never spell things out. We say 'I love you', and we sometimes make speeches but in the end how many times do we actually sit someone down and say, this is exactly what you mean to me and why? How many times do you look a friend, or a family member, or a lover in the eye and tell them the exact reasons why you care?

"I know that I never did that. I don't think that any of us do, really, because there's always time for that later. We kind of say it but we never get down to brass tacks about it, either because the idea doesn't occur to us or we just don't think it's the right time, or we're not sure how they'll take it. Those reasons are all bullshit, but we use them as excuses anyway.

"Let me spell it out for you now, Francis. Hopefully you can hear me, wherever you are, however you are.

"You were the first person to care about me. Not as the princess, but as me. Elaine. To you I wasn't anything but a girl who loved to paint and draw, and was a bit too rebellious and a bit too much of a smart-ass for her own good. You remember the lake, Francis? I think I scared the breath right out of you. I was a bit snarky, wasn't I?

"It scared me sometimes, how much you cared. I could read it in your eyes all of the time. Some people, when we're all drunk and talking on girls' nights out and stuff, would tell me that they could see it in their partner's eyes when they were making love, or in little flashes here and there. But it never left your eyes. How much you loved me, how much you cared. It was always there, shining and bright, and it scared me so much. I knew that you'd be stupid because of it. When I first met Jefferson I was a little jealous when I saw you had that same love for him in your eyes. But then I met the rest of your family – Sarah and Marcus and your father – and you had love brimming in your eyes then, too, and I realized… I realized that was just who you were. You were a person who cared so much. You never did anything by halves, and that included love.

"You were also the bravest person I ever met. You never understood why people said that. I know that you didn't feel brave. But you were. You did what was right, and what you had to in order to take care of us, no matter what the risk to yourself. When you promised something you flung your entire self into it, and come hell or high water you were going to fulfill that promise. You plunged into danger without thinking if someone you loved was hurting. I know my father's title was propaganda but you earned it.

"I have always been proud to call you mine. And I am so, so selfish because I want you back with me right now. I wish you weren't so noble, or so brave, so that you could be here with me. But that wouldn't be you. That wouldn't be who you are, and I love you for it. I love you so much that it hurts.

"I never did understand it when you said that you loved me too much. How could you love someone too much? But when you said it… sending it to me over the crowd… one last time… I understood. You loved blindly. If you loved someone, then you couldn't even see the danger to yourself. You would do anything, absolutely anything, for someone that you loved, and damn the consequences. You were willing to become a boy and give up our firstborn child for me, once I convinced you that I was okay with it. You loved me at risk to yourself, and you didn't care.

"Maybe if you'd loved a little less, you'd still be here. You'd still be with me, and I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep at night because my chest hurts like Regina took my heart too. But you wouldn't be my Francis then. You wouldn't be the wonderful, brave, stubborn, frustrating woman that I was lucky enough to have True Love with.

"I love you, Francis. And I think that I just might love you too much."

::::::::::::::::::::::::

After it was all over, the prayers said and the coffin lowered, the dirt thrown over and stamped down and everyone departed, Elaine sat in the grass for a long time. Day turned to dusk and twilight settled in, deepening into night, but still she sat. She held close each memory of her love, clutching it to her chest before letting it float away. Francis wouldn't want her to remain stuck in her grief, and so for her sake, if no one else's, she had to try and move on.

One memory stood out to her in particular. It was the night that Francis' father had died. The old man had been struck with fever and become a bit delirious in the end. Sarah was overcome by tears and had to stand at the back of the room or leave, and Marcus had his hands full comforting her. That had left Francis to ease the aged king's journey into the next life.

"_Alice?" King Francis looked around. "Where's Alice? I want to see her… see her one last time…"_

"_You will, Father." Francis assured him. "You'll see Alice very soon." Her voice and hands were steady, her eyes shiny with tears that she refused to let fall._

"_I'm dying, Franny." The old man replied. "I don't have much time. I need to see her… to say goodbye…"_

"_Trust me, Father." Francis said soothingly. "You will see her soon. I promise."_

"_You take care of the family, Franny." He said. "Sarah's a good girl and Marcus loves her, and Jefferson would cross realms for Alice, but you're as close to a son as I ever had. You once pretended to be my son for us."_

"_And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Francis assured him, gripping his hand reassuringly._

"_But I want you to watch over them. Times are changing, my dear. Trouble is stirring, and I want you to promise me that you'll see our family through."_

"_You don't have to get me to promise, Father." Francis said quietly. "That is something that I would do whether you asked me or not."_

_He reached over with his other hand and patted hers. "Good girl." He whispered. Then his wrinkled face blossomed into a smile. "Alice…" He murmured._

_In the back of the room, Sarah gave a choked sob and clung to her husband. The king sank back against the pillows, his body sinking as if in thick mud, before settling. His spirit left him on his last breath._

_Francis stood, quietly covering her father's face, before crossing to her sister and hugging her. "I shall go and make the preparations." She said. Marcus nodded, sitting his wife down in a chair to try and calm her._

_That night, Francis sat on the edge of the bed. She waited until Elaine had finished her evening toilette before she asked her, her voice strangled and quiet,_

"_Lanie… can you hold me?"_

_Without a word, Elaine sat next to her wife and wrapped her arms around her as Francis broke down, sobbing hard enough to cause hiccups and make her body heave and shake violently. All of the emotions that she had kept hidden throughout the day were revealed and dumped out as she gave into her grief, crying for a whole hour before finally quieting._

"_Thank you." She whispered to Elaine when she could finally speak again. She kissed Elaine on the forehead._

"_That," Elaine said quietly, "Was the bravest thing that I have ever seen you do."_

"_That wasn't brave." Francis started, but Elaine cut her off._

"_You had to swallow your sorrow all day – indeed, during this entire process – in order to take care of the castle and your sister. You've refused to let yourself relax or give in so that everything would run smoothly, and the castle wouldn't descend into chaos. You put the needs of others before yourself, no matter how much it pained you. To me, that was braver than any dragon slaying."_

_Francis tried to chuckle, but it became a sob and Elaine lay her down on the bed, curling up against her and holding her through the night, keeping her safe even in sleep._

"You were the Bravest in the Land, Francis." Elaine whispered to the fresh dirt covering her love. "Not because your were fearless or emotionless, but because you refused to let those get in the way of protecting others. You cared for us, no matter what. And I don't care how many dragons someone slays or curses they break – you will always be the bravest of all to me."

Elaine stood up slowly and walked back through the darkness to her house, letting that last memory free to float on the wind.

**And scene! Sorry, again, for killing her off. Really, I am, but it had to be done. Anyhow, I hope that you managed to enjoy this story regardless, and please leave a review to let me know how I did. Who knows? I might write some Mad Swan or Rumbelle oneshots! (You know me, the smut monster.) Thanks for reading!**


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